That Summer
by remy7marie
Summary: AU Rogan. Lorelai's inn is in the Bahamas, and Logan and his friends take a trip there in the summer.
1. The Beginning

**A/N: okay, i really really shouldnt be starting a new one. and i dont even know where i got this idea. i went an saw mama mia at the orpheum and this popped into my head. im not quite sure. so tell me if you think i should continue it! questions, comments, concerns, whatever. :-)**

**things to know:  
The teenagers (rory, logan, etc) are all the same age.  
They have never met each other before.  
Takes place summer after senior year of high school.  
No Tristan or Jess as exboyfriends, just friends, and Dean may pop up later, i'm not quite sure.**

i think thats it...enjoy and review. oh, and i think its going to be a rogan/sophie.  


**Chapter 1**

"So, Emily, how is that daughter of yours? Lorelai, was it?" Emily smiled for at the question for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night.

"Oh, she's wonderful, Shira. She and my granddaughter just love it down at that island she decided on."

"I can't believe she's been gone for three years already. It seems like just yesterday her and her daughter were attending your dinner parties. Now they're opening their inn down in the Bahamas."

"Ah, yes. It's been quite successful. That or Richard's lying to me." They both laughed, Emily taking a sip of her champagne.

"So, is Rory going to school down there?"

"Oh, heaven's no! She'll be coming up at the end of the summer to begin Yale. She's very excited."

"Yale! We'll have to introduce her and Logan. I know he's thrilled to be starting Yale soon."

"Let's just get them through this summer first, but I definitely agree."

Shira smiled at Emily from behind her champagne flute, taking another drink.

"How is Logan?" Emily asked, carefully eying the other guests around the large room.

"Oh, he's fine. He's happy to be done with high school. He and his friends are going on a little trip this summer, too."

"It's so important that kids travel these days. They need to be cultured." Shira nodded her head vehemently in agreement.

"Well, Shira, it's been a pleasure, but I must find out where these desserts are coming from, I didn't order them. Enjoy the party!"

Shira laughed and walked back over to her husband, who was talking with Richard, probably business.

-----------

"Mom! Where are all these people coming from?" Rory ran from the kitchen to the front desk, glancing out the large glass doors outside to the morning heat. People swarmed around outside, trying to find their luggage.

"They're swearing revenge on you for throwing your _Oliver Twist_ book at me this morning," Lorelai said, carrying a cup of coffee and standing next to Rory behind the counter.

"You woke me up! That's what you get." She looked around. "Where's Steph?"

"Showing some couple to their honeymoon suite. Be happy its not you. The couple looked awfully cuddly on the way up there for it only being," she looked at her watch, "ten o'clock."

"Ew, stop."

They both rested their elbows on the counter, holding their cups of coffee, looking outside. They had finally achieved their goal, well, Lorelai's goal. Their own inn in the Bahamas. What more could they want?

It had taken so much to get away from everyone. Lorelai's parents had only recently forgiven them when they had found out that Rory would be attending Yale, Richard's alma mater.

And this is what they had created.

It was a large inn, and some may have considered it a hotel. But, The Dragonfly was homey and cozy, but still incredibly beautiful and not cluttered with old, ugly antiques. Large glass doors opened into the lobby, with an ocean view and a surly French man who occasionally showed them to their rooms.

Sookie, the amazing chef, worked in the kitchen, providing the guests with amazing breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, with Lane, a girl Rory's age, serving the food and helping guests.

Michel was the French man with an attitude and more sarcasm than any normal person would want to deal with.

Luke was a local diner owner and the unofficial handyman of The Dragonfly.

Steph worked at the front desk with Rory, checking in guests and showing them to their rooms, and was also heading to Yale with Rory in three months, at the end of the summer.

And finally, Rory was Lorelai's daughter. The little girl that Lorelai had had when she was merely sixteen. They had packed up when Rory was fifteen and moved here to follow their dreams and start fresh without the frowns from Hartford society for their lifestyle.

Now what would they say, they live in a hotel for God's sake. A hotel that they own.

"Oh God," Lorelai grumbled, "Here are some frat boys with daddy's money." Rory followed her mother's gaze and sure enough, there were three rich-looking boys, who couldn't have been older than her, walking in through the glass doors.

Steph had just walked up to them, a bubbly blonde with bright green eyes, and stood next to Rory.

Rory turned and smiled sweetly at her, "You can take this one, right, Steph?"

Steph was shooting her death glares, and she started laughing, "You owe me, Gilmore. And don't go too far, I may need backup."

Rory laughed again and walked to the room behind the front desk, a little break room, if you will.

"Welcome, what can I do for you?" She heard Steph say.

"Two rooms under Huntzberger, and your number, love," Rory heard a guy with an Australian accent tell her.

"Rory, crazy Australian, party of one," Steph called to her, and Rory walked out of the room to the front desk.

Steph moved and Rory took her spot and looked up at the guy who had been talking.

"What did you say the name was?"

"Huntzberger, love. But its not me. I'm Finn. And you are…?"

"Rory. Two rooms, correct?"

Finn nodded as she held out the keys. "Do you need help finding your rooms?"

"Nope, love, I think we can manage." He turned and hit one of his friends behind him on the arm and they turned to him.

He held up the keys, "We need to put our crap in the rooms."

"How are you even up, Finn?" one with blonde hair asked.

"Jet lag, it messes with me, mate."

"Ah, right."

"Just get me a drink and I'll be good as new," he said, smiling brightly.

"If you need anything else, just ask," Rory said, looking at the three guys who were now staring at her.

They all picked up their bags and made their way to the elevator. Rory and Steph looked at each other and started laughing.

It was just another crazy day in the Bahamas.


	2. Old Tune, New Tune

**A/N: wow! thanks for the response to this one! it made my day, really. i didnt expect this up so soon, seeing as im trying to take my time with this and fully develop a plot. so far, all i have is a summer down in the bahamas and a sort of love-hate relationship between rory and logan. thats all ill say for now. anyways, this one sort of jumps around a few times...but hopefully its easy to follow? and sorry about having to repost it. i had it up but then noticed some mistakes that i overlooked, so i reposted it. but tell me what you think. enjoy and review.**

**Chapter 2**

"Finn, I told you, I can't let you break into the bar. Other _legal_ customers drink that stuff. If I let you have a free-for-all, what are we left with?"

Rory was arguing with Finn at the front desk, the second day of his and his friends' stay.

"Well, love, you will have not only my friendship, but the friendship of my good friends Logan and Colin."

Her eyes flickered past Finn's shoulder to the two guys standing behind him. She shrugged, unimpressed. "Nope."

"Hey!" One of them said, a dark haired, brown-eyed guy. "Who's that girl?" he asked, pointing to Steph, who was eating a stick of celery, laughing with Lorelai about something or other.

Finn clapped him on the shoulder, "Colin, good luck, mate."

"Look, I'd love to continue this, but you are holding up the other guests." She pointed to the slowly growing line behind them, and Finn shrugged.

"I'll be back," Colin said, not-so-stealthily walking in the general direction Steph had walked off in.

"Oh! A redhead!" Finn called. A young redhead turned around as he ran up to her, "Tell me, love, do you believe in fate?"

Rory was left with the blonde haired one, who was on his cell phone, arguing with someone. He looked at her briefly, holding up his finger in the "one minute" motion. She sighed and pulled up solitaire on the desk computer, already tired of waiting for this guy to get done.

After a few heated protests and harsh words that Rory chose to be deaf to, he finally snapped his flip phone shut.

He ran a hand over his face, "Can you tell me where the nearest bar is?"

"Just step outside. You'll find one."

"I really don't have time for this."

"And I do? I can honestly tell you that you just single-handedly, I might add, held up the line and forced Steph to open the other side of the desk to let people check in!"

"That's what its there for, isn't it?"

"Go find your bar. Take your Australian with you."

"Nothing like good customer service."

"Fill out a comment card if you have a problem." She smiled sweetly at the next guest as he walked away, "Hi, sorry about the wait. What can I do for you?"

----------

"Well, that girl was a bitch," Logan said tiredly, sliding into the booth which he, like Rory had said, easily found by simply walking out of the inn, out onto the busy street.

Follow people and you'll most likely find a bar.

"Which one?" Finn asked distractedly as he surveyed the bar for local redheads.

"The receptionist, who do you think?"

"Rory? Nah, she's an angel, mate. You caught her bad side apparently."

"Coming from the guy who was trying to convince her to unlock the bar storage area for him, which she refused to do, by the way."

"You need to lighten up, Logan," Colin said, not moving his eyes from the Luna's Bar and Grill table menu. "We just graduated from high school and are now here, on this beautiful island, for the next three months."

"Wow, about to start writing poetry there, Colin?" Logan snapped, rolling his eyes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we should appreciate what little freedom we have left before Yale. That's all."

Logan stood up abruptly from his side of the booth, and he simply walked away, leaving Finn and Colin confused as to what had just taken place.

----------

Rory was working the front desk that night, open for late arrivals and tourists who wanted to experience the nightlife and couldn't quite remember which room was theirs. She was going through the computer files, trying to figure out just how many late-night stragglers she should be expecting.

This was when Logan Huntzberger entered, unbeknownst to her.

He slipped in quietly through the glass doors, looking around in case Colin or Finn was out looking for him. It was three AM, after all.

He was so busy looking around, in fact, that he tripped over a flower pot, flying face first to the floor. He looked up to see the girl working at the front desk, laughing at him, her hand not-so-ladylike cupped over her mouth.

She stood smiling brightly, completely unbiased from his behavior to her, "Graceful."

"I was, uh, just seeing who was out."

She nodded in mock understanding, "Uh uh, at three in the morning?"

"Welcome to the city that...never sleeps."

"Try New York," she said, her eyes flittering back to the computer screen. He came and stood in front of her, his elbows on the counter, hands folded in front.

"I don't think we have been introduced."

"No, but I know Finn."

"Ah, yes, Finn. He said you're an angel. I, on the other hand, beg to differ."

"You weren't exactly Mr. Sunshine either."

"Well, I'm Logan."

"Rory."

He looked around the lobby carefully, "And you work out here all by yourself?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Is that a problem?"

"Couldn't it be dangerous?"

"Only with rich frat boys like you running around. Believe me, I've been doing this since I was fifteen. It's not dangerous."

"Hey, you don't know me. I'm not even in college yet, give me three months, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be the frat boy."

"I didn't know that McDonald's offered fraternities. Hmm, maybe I should reevaluate my career choice. Do you think they offer sororities as well?" she asked sarcastically.

"You know, I could judge you as a stuck-up rich beach bimbo."

"Yeah, except for the fact that I can form sentences."

"One of your more attributing qualities."

Her cerulean eyes flared with annoyance, and Logan smirked. Of course, he had only said that to get her mad. She had many other nice qualities. He took the time where she had gone back to being stubborn, staring at her computer screen, to actually see who he had just been arguing with.

The first thing he noticed was her face. She was naturally beautiful, but not superficially. She was a classic beauty with defined cheekbones and porcelain skin. She had bright blue eyes that often shone, whether it be with amusement or annoyance, both of which he saw that night.

She had on a white halter sundress, giving her both comfort and class by the looks of it, and her hair was down, curling slightly to her shoulders. She was not like the regular girls he picked up back home in Hartford. For one, she was brunette, not blonde. She could actually talk, making not only sentences, but clever ones. It was weird having to be on his toes around a girl because she may have been wittier than he.

"Do you need something, or are you just going to stare at me all night?" Her voice made him jump and he noticed that he had been openly staring at her.

He smirked, "Would that bother you?"

She sighed, "Go away, Logan. I'm tired and I have to work for the next three hours. Your company isn't really helping, and that's sad because I just met you."

As a recently married, honeymooning, by the looks of it, couple filtered into the lobby, he moved to the side of the desk so he could still talk to her.

She smiled at the pair as they walked up to her, asking them their name and how many rooms, all routine. She handed them their keys and they ambled off, eager to find the honeymoon suite they had booked.

"I hate couples like that," she mumbled.

"Like what?" She jumped and looked beside her, her nose scrunched in annoyance.

"Couples like…that!" she said, pointing to the elevator they had just stepped onto.

"Married ones?"

"_Recently_ married ones. They act al lovey-dovey, and when they walk in here twisted in each other's arms, it's not like people don't know what they're going to be doing. It just makes it all uncomfortable."

"Did you not have the sex-ed talk, Rory?"

She threw a pencil at him. "I did, thank you very much."

"Then you should know that relations between a man and his wife are completely normal."

She simply glared. "Like I said before, go away. I don't like you. You bother me."

"Well, I bet that by the end of my stay here, in the middle of August, you'll be whistling a different tune."

"You'll be sorely disappointed."

He simply smirked, his hands in his pockets as he walked off towards the elevator, in a much better mood than when he arrived.


	3. WakeUp Call

**A/N: wow, i cant believe i was actually able to sit down and write this. there has been a TON of shit going on. . i havent really been in the best of moods, and i had sworn of writing these stories for about a week so i could sort out some stuff thats going through my head, but i decided to write some. ill probably work more on the next chapter soon, so expect another update in the next week or so. but tell me what you think. enjoy and review. **

**Chapter 3**

The sun was shining through the white curtains hanging from Rory's window when she woke up to a steady pounding on her door. She groaned and rolled over, doing her best to block out the noise with her fluffy white down pillow over her ears. She stumbled out of bed with closed eyes, fumbling for the door handle and jerked it open, not prepared for what she saw.

Logan Huntzberger casually leaning against the doorframe of her room at, she glanced back at the clock, nine in the morning on her first day off in almost a week.

He almost laughed at her state of haphazard dress, her plain sweatpants rolled at the waist for comfort, her white tank top sticking to her skin already in the morning heat, but at this point, he didn't want to push his luck. He held out the cup of coffee he was holding, which she promptly grabbed from his hands, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

She opened the door, stepping back a few steps to let him in. She walked to the side of her bed and roughly pushed back the blinds and banged her fist on the window frame twice before sliding it up, feeling a warm breeze fill the room.

"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly, watching early-morning people stroll the brick streets, on their way to work or to get their morning coffee.

It was a fair question. The inn had five floors, six including theirs. They kept theirs a secret and away from guests, the home of Lorelai, Rory, Lane, and Steph. They each had their own room, shared two bathrooms, a living room, and that was about it. They never spent that much time up their, busy with the guests, but how did he know about it?

"I asked your mom. She just handed me a cup of coffee and told me to give it to you, and then told me where to go." He recounted his tale without a care in the world, not really bothered by the face that he was currently standing at the edge of the bed of a girl who pretty much hated him.

"No, as in, what are you doing here, in my room, on my day off, at nine in the morning?"

She finally turned to look at him, her blue eyes still tired, and he felt bad. She had worked until six in the morning, he remembered.

"Oh, God, I forgot. You were working last night."

"It doesn't matter, I'm up now. What did you need?"

He smirked, "A tour guide?"

"You know, you can pay someone to do that for you. Maybe if you're lucky and get a girl, you can even have your bedmate for the night."

"And she's witty. I'll ignore the fact that I should be offended that you think I have a different girl in my bed every night because I woke you up when you probably just fell asleep."

"It would be a different story if you got a man tour guide," she continued, receiving a pointed stare from him. "Okay, so you don't swing that way. Whatever," she waved her hand casually at him.

"Lunch, dinner, and coffee included?"

"I still don't see why you can't hire someone to show you around."

"It's more fun when you know the person."

"I hear their introductions are simply amazing. You can get to know them in less than five minutes."

"I'm being serious."

"Me too! I mean come on, you don't want a native girl to show you around this beautiful island?"

"Are you not native?"

She snorted, "Ha, no. I wish, though. Would've made it easier." He titled his head questioningly at her comment before she continued on. "When did you want to go?"

"Half hour?"

She nodded sleepily at him before laying back down on her bed. "Wake me up in fifteen minutes. Then I'll shower and stuff."

"Why do I have a feeling we won't leave for another two hours?"

Her eyes were closed but she kept talking, "You were the one who woke me up."

"I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, you can just buy me five cups of coffee before you come to wake me up in an hour."

"Fifteen minutes," he corrected.

She lifted her arm slowly and pointed at him, "_Right._ Fifteen minutes."

He laughed at her and softly shut her door behind him before going down to buy her coffee.

---------

Sure enough, an hour and a half later, the two were leaving the hotel.

"We could have left sooner if you'd actually got out of bed."

"You were the one who woke me up!"

"You said it was fine, and I apologized. Not to mention the six coffees I have brought you this morning, which you are going to be throwing up later."

"Wow, thanks for the visual."

"No problem."

And this was how it often was. They fought and argued, then fell back into banter, and finally had a civil conversation. They were both kept on their toes, whether they were awake and alert - - Logan - - or, falling asleep at the lunch table while waiting for their food to come - - Rory. He poked her with his fork, starting yet another argument.

"The food's not even here yet!"

"I'm sure they just washed that glass table. They don't need your head on it."

"I showered this morning, thank you very much."

"Tell them that when they kick you out for destroying their property."

She glared at him and slumped back in her seat, "This is why I don't like spending any time with you."

"Well, you are blunt. But you just couldn't resist a date with me."

Her eyes narrowed, "This is _not_ a date. Most people who go on dates aren't dragged out of bed at nine AM, being forced to show someone around an island."

"Which we still have to do." He was smirking, and while he was complaining about being at lunch at 11:30, he really didn't care. It was a good change of pace to see a girl actually want to eat, rather than shirking away from any sort of food as if it was a great plague and out to kill the world.

"I was hungry!"

"You should have eaten at the hotel!"

"It's an inn, for the hundredth time!"

"There's hardly a difference, Rory."

"Ugh, you're infuriating!"

"You love it," he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"I've known you for two days, and every time I talk to you, we start fighting. Believe me, waking up at nine to fight all day is not my ideal day off."

He looked at her for a second, his response on the tip of his tongue, when the waiter came with their food. He watched her eyes light up momentarily at the sight of her cheeseburger, and he smiled to himself. Yes, it would be a fun three months.

----------

"I can't believe you made us circle the entire island twice, Logan."

"I wanted the complete tour!"

"You are officially not my friend." She slowly climbed the stairs to the inn, seeing her mom arguecoughflirt with Luke through the glass window. She turned back to him.

"So this is like the end of the date thing, and this is technically your doorstep," he said, smirking.

"This isn't a date, Logan. Get over it. And technically, this is your doorstep, too. Only you don't own the place."

"Right. Well, thanks. And sorry for waking you up, but you have to admit, it was fun."

She bit her lip and smiled, "Yeah, it was fun."

"Do you work tomorrow?"

"Nine AM."

"I'll let you go then. You probably need sleep."

"Understatement." She playfully glared at him.

"I said sorry!"

"I know, I'm kidding. Goodnight, Logan."

She turned the brass handle to the glass door and walked inside. She stopped only to kiss her mother on the cheek and give a brief greeting to Luke before she got in the elevator and went upstairs.

Logan walked to the now-favorite restaurant of Colin and Finn's, Luna's Bar and Grill, where he knew they would be impatiently waiting for his return. He thought about the day's events and smiled to himself.

It was the only beginning of a friendship, which little did they both know, would be more important than they ever thought.


	4. So Much for Anonymity

**A/N: yeah, dont even ask how i already have this one written. and its long! i was going to hold off posting it, but it'll probably be the last post of the weekend. in chapter three, i forgot to say THANK YOUUU to all the reviews. so thank you very much. really, you have no idea. they make my sucky week happy. :-) but anyways, happy easter/passover/any other holiday for any other religion! ps...this is kinda dramatic and it was..i dont know - - i didnt mean for it to come out like this, but it did, so oh well. i may come back and repost if i really develop hate for it. sigh sorry... enjoy and review. **

**Chapter 4**

**_two weeks later…_**

"What number is this one for the morning?" Steph asked Colin, handing him the plate of fruit she was eating off of.

"I think this is three, and its only eleven. Impressive pair, I must say."

They were watching Rory and Logan's heated argument, taking place in the middle of the lobby, frantic-looking guests darting around the two, afraid of getting in the way of the line of battle.

They watched Rory throw her hands up, "My God, could your ego get any bigger?"

Logan smirked, "Well, you've finally succumbed to my real name: God. Don't worry; you wouldn't be the first girl to call me that."

"Pig," she stated flatly, crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious.

"I'm just stating the facts. Am I not allowed to do that?"

"I'm leaving. This is getting ridiculous."

She moved to step around him, but he shadowed her steps, ending up right in front of her again. He took a step closer and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Better overcome your dislike for me, Rory. It'll be a long two and a half months." His breath was hot on her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

She stared up in his light brown eyes, flecks of gold contrasting the color. "Stay away from me," she said through gritted teeth, her voice just as low as his.

She took his moment of surprise as a time to leave and she made her way easily around him, making her way to the stairs and skipping them two at a time, not bothering to look back at the boy staring after her in the lobby.

Logan stood still for a few moments, registering what had just happened. Throughout all their spats and arguments, which were usually just bantering between two friends, she was never as serious or upset as she was a few minutes ago.

He ran after her, following her footsteps and skipping the stairs two at a time. He caught up to her between the fourth and fifth floor, where she had slowed to a walk. He softly grabbed her arm so she was backed up against the stairwell wall, her head right next to the lit up Floor Five sign. "Hey, Ror, what did I do?"

Her eyes lit up with anger, "What did you do? Just your mere personality, Logan!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You come here; all in your supposed glory, daddy's money and Hartford community cannot love you more, expecting the same exact thing here! Trying to make every girl fall at your feet, arguing with anything with two legs, does it ever stop? Almighty Huntzberger here, everyone move out of the way." Her arms were flailing throughout her rant, and towards the middle he carefully wrapped his hands around her wrist, pulling her close to him, so that by the end of her sentence, her voice had fallen to a whisper.

"What are you talking about?" he asked softly.

"Let go of me."

"Rory…"

"Please."

He let go of her wrists and took a step back. "I have to work," she said, her voice strained.

He nodded, taking a few more steps back so she could move down the stairs.

So much for anonymity, he thought.

----------

"Steph, shh! You'll wake the whole damn place up!" Rory whispered, tiptoeing across the deserted lobby, white flip flops in hand.

Steph giggled, tapping her fingers along the lobby desk, "Ror, you're such a worry-wart. You need to lighten up some."

"Stephanie, it is three o'clock in the morning. What do you think people would say if they saw three girls sneaking out to the beach with a bottle of wine, UNDERAGE girls, I might add?"

"Hey, you swiped the wine," Lane said, shifting the portable stereo in her arms.

"I need to drink," she stated as she checked the receptionist desk for the person who was working that night.

"Who is working tonight?" Lane asked, changing the topic and switching feet she was balancing on.

"I don't know. Mom told me, but I was sort of half-listening because Finn was trying to break into the bar…again. Talk about persistence."

"Back to the topic at hand," Steph interrupted. "Why do you want to drink?"

"I'd rather not say," Rory said, and she walked out of the glass doors out to the street, taking the small path through the gardens that led to the beach, followed by Steph and Lane. When her toes dug into the sand, she turned around, holding the wine bottle up. "Who really gives a damn anyways? I'm leaving in two months, and I can finally do something on my own."

Steph and Lane looked at each other. "Dean," they chorused.

Rory sank down in the sand, her halter, white sundress billowing out around her. "No."

She jumped back up and popped the cork on the wine, and she turned to start walking to the shore, opened wine bottle in hand. She took a drink of wine, simply drinking it straight from the bottle, before handing it off to Steph, who eagerly accepted.

Sure, Dean was always a factor. He was a local waiter at Luna's, and he had met Rory when he was delivering some takeout for Lorelai when Rory was sixteen. He was okay looking, floppy hair, towering over anyone with brown eyes. He had asked her out, and while she didn't feel that spark she was always looking for, she agreed.

And so began the relationship that would last for a year and a half. She dragged it on for too long, she knew, and it ended with both of them drunk at a party and her losing her virginity to him. They only did it once, and frankly, it wasn't even worth it. It was the biggest thing she regretted. After that party, she found out he had been screwing other girls behind her back and they had a very public breakup in the lobby of The Dragonfly.

She sees him pretty much every day, passing by Luna's or just walking down the street, and she's gotten over it. More than over it.

But tonight, it wasn't it.

She had blown her cover. She knew who Logan Huntzberger was. The admiration of his family from her grandmother just seeped through the long distance phone call whenever Emily called. Hartford elite was a bitch. No one knew this better than Rory.

She also knew she had blown his cover. Anonymity was crucial with people her age when they go on trips like this. Who wants to know that your father is the biggest newspaper king on the East coast, unless you're trying to one-up them? Especially when you're trying to get out of the business altogether.

She just had to blab. She dipped her toes in the water before stepping in completely, the water pulling on the hem of her dress.

Lane and Steph shared a glance. "I'm a little worried about her," Lane whispered to Steph.

"I know; I've never seen her like this."

"Go get Lorelai."

"No! The wine, Lane!"

"Well, we need to get someone!"

"Logan?"

Lane snorted quietly, watching Rory walk along the shore, still in the water. "He'll only piss her off."

"No, I don't think so. Not if he sees her like this."

"You get to go get him. You know Colin and all I do is try to stay away from that Australian who swears that when he sees me, he sees another exotic."

"You are exotic, babe," Steph whispered, winking at her.

"I'm Korean, weirdo. Just go."

Steph ran quickly to the hotel and Rory looked at Lane. "Where is she going?"

"To get more wine," Lane lied quickly.

Rory nodded and stepped back in the water, looking out to the endless sea, wondering what was at the end of it all. She felt two arms wrap around her waist, pulling her back.

"No. Stop," she demanded.

"Rory," someone whispered in her ear. It was a familiar voice, but she couldn't place it between the waves crashing on the sand and all the noise in her own head.

"Stop! Let me go." She jerked out the person's grasp and turned around, coming face to face with Logan, seeing Steph, Lane, Finn, and Colin in the background. She pushed him away roughly and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

She stubbornly sat down in the sand, her knees pulled up to her chest. Logan turned to the four others, signaling for them to leave. They complied and walked back up to the inn, and Logan sat down next to her.

"Rory," he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

A lone tear fell down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He pulled her into his lap and she rested her head on his shoulder, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

He felt her breathing even out against his skin, and he realized that she had fallen asleep. He slid an arm under the back of her knees and another around her back, and he lifted her as he stood up. She was light, he realized, lighter than what he expected for what she ate.

He shoved those pointless thoughts out of his head and carried her up to the steps in front of the glass doors, and carefully pulled open a door while trying not to drop her. He brought her to her room, ignoring Steph and Lane who were sitting in the living room with Colin and Finn, who were all whispering questions to him. He shut her door behind him and laid her on the bed, pulling the cotton sheet up to her shoulders.

He then pulled up a chair to the side of her bed, watching over her for the remainder of the night, well into morning, when the rest of the island slowly began waking up.

When she woke up at noon the next day, the first thing she saw was a head of spiky blonde hair on the edge of her bed, resting on folded arms. She felt sick as the memories came back to her and clenched her sheets in her fist.

He sensed the movement of the bed, the shifting of the mattress, and woke up, slowly lifting his head to see two wide blue eyes looking back at him.

She jerked the sheet off the bed and stood up, wrapping the thin piece of fabric around her for both warmth, still being clad in her white dress, and for the purposes of being covered up, once again, still being clad in her white dress.

"You shouldn't be here," she mumbled, and she moved to the window to peer outside.

"Steph talked to your mom. You don't have to work tonight," he said, ignoring her comment.

"Thanks," she breathed, actually grateful that Steph did that; working was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up from the chair, "I didn't mean to piss you off so much yesterday to drive you to drink."

She smiled softly at him, "Thanks, but you're not the reason I was drinking. Or going insane. Whichever you prefer."

"Having a bad day?"

"That works, too."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah." After only two weeks, he had learned a little too much about her for her liking. He knew of her eating habits, coffee addictions, tendencies to ramble, pop-culture love, everything except her life before this inn.

"Come on," he said, gesturing her to walk out her bedroom door.

"I'll just eat here. Besides, I can't go out looking like this!" She pointed to her wrinkled dress and messy hair.

"You look beautiful." She gave him a pointed stare, "Or shower."

"Logan, I'll eat here."

"No, you're going to get out of this place for a little bit. You don't have to work, so there's no reason for you to stay here."

"I want to stay here."

"Stop being stubborn!"

"You stop being stubborn!"

"Come on, Rory. Just get out for a little bit!"

She crossed her arms over her chest with the sheet still clutched in her hands defensively, "You can't make me."

"I can, too. I can go get your mother and tell her about your little drinking escapade last night."

"Okay, first of all, she'd probably throw a party for me, she'd be so proud. Secondly, even if she did get mad, it'd be more likely I'd be stuck here than forced to go out."

"Just shower and we'll go."

"I said no, Logan."

"You need to get out more, you know." He was starting to make her mad and he knew it. He was only saying these things to push her buttons and piss her off enough to want to prove him wrong.

"What does that mean?"

"You're just a little…" he searched for the word, "scared."

"Scared? To go out to lunch? Will the forks attack me or something?"

"That's some dry humor you got there."

She sighed, knowing that they'd either be there the rest of the afternoon arguing or she'd be dragged out of the inn kicking and screaming to lunch. "Give me twenty minutes."

"I'll meet you downstairs." He was smirking and making her more and more irritated. She picked up the pillow and threw it after him, hitting the closed door.

---------

They were walking side by side down the crowded sidewalk, his hand softly wrapped around hers so as not to lose her in the crowd.

They stopped in front of Luna's Bar and Grill, and she looked at him with wide eyes. Dean worked here. Dean would be here. Wait, she was over Dean. But her with another guy?

She wrapped her free hand over his wrist and pulled him from the door before he could open it. "Actually, can we not go here? I ate here yesterday and I'm not really in the mood for it again."

He knew she was lying. For the sake of actually making it to lunch before having another argument, he let it slide and didn't push her. "Sure, there's this other place at the end of the street, Mona's?"

"Oh, yeah, it's new. We could try that." They continued walking down the street, not noticing how sometime during their talk, their hands had found their way entwined with the others, their fingers laced together.

They were seated at a table out on the patio, overlooking the ocean. She was staring out and randomly wondered how she got in this position in the first place.

His voice broke her thought pattern. Damn his persistency. "So, what happened last night?"

"Well, you just jump right in, don't you?"

"I'm serious. You had a lot of people worried." Including him. He was worried when he saw Rory standing in the ocean with her arms wrapped around herself, not talking to anyone. It took everything not to pick her up right when he saw her, but to first get her to trust him.

Honestly, she was becoming one of his best friends. They hung out a lot. They would eat out, make fun of guests who were mock-worthy, and of course, argue. Seeing her like that was not like her usual self, the strong-willed, stubborn girl he knew. Last night, she was vulnerable, dependent on someone else.

Not to mention Colin's "friendship" with Steph, where everyone knew they were practically in love with each other, and Finn's obsession with Lane, a fellow exotic person, or so he thought.

"I just had a bad day. It's nothing." She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "You don't believe me?"

"No, I don't."

"Hmm, well, I don't know what to tell you."

"You could tell me what happened."

She sighed, once again knowing it would be like this morning: tell him or sit and bitch all afternoon.

"I'm leaving in two and a half months. Going to school, back home, away from my mom, back to my grandparents, God forbid. Back to my old life." She used his patented smirk and directed it towards him, "Back to your life, it would seem."

"I don't understand."

"I wouldn't expect you to. It's just…this whole move, the inn, this life I have now, was all for my mom. I moved here for her, worked here since I was fifteen for her, and now, when I have the chance to get out and do something on my own, I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"At least you have the chance," he grumbled, making Rory frown at him.

"You have such a lucky life, Logan. While everyone else, including me, had to work our asses off to get into the school of our choice, you could easily get in with your last name."

"So you just don't know what you want to do?"

"Oh no, I know what I want to do. I've wanted to go into journalism since I was four. Believe me, that's not the problem."

"So what is?"

"Now that I will have my freedom, I have no idea what to do with it. It'll be hard to leave Mom, too. It's just…all piling on so fast. I just don't even know what to do sometimes. It scares me, and I panic and break down; take last night for example."

"Huh."

"I'm probably just over-thinking it. I do that. A lot. Give me too much time and that's what I'll do." She looked down at the menu, "What are you going to order?"

And that was that.


	5. Island Fever!

**A/N: holy crap, thanks for the reviews. :-) i dont even want to go into how i actually did this one. between DDR for four hours (sitting on the floor, hitting the mat with a fist) and eating more candy than my body weight, it seems like i didnt even write this. but here it is. its a semi-cliffhanger? maybe? no..okay...so tell me what you think. so...no school tomorrow and then school on tuesday, meaning probably not another update til end of the week, weekend:-( but anyways, enjoy and review. **

**chapter five**

She tugged on his hand firmly, making him look back at her. "Please, please, please! You have to go, Logan! You need to experience the island life; this whole island shindig bop-hop being part of it."

It was a three days after her "breakdown" and their friendship back on track. If back on track meant that both were ignoring their obvious feelings for each other, usually shown through thrown objects, harsh comments, and her punching his arm, better known as a love tap.

They seemed to have silently agreed not to talk about anything that had happened, comfortably avoiding anything that may rain on their parade or ruin their façade of disinterest in each other.

He looked back at her and her puppy dog face, something he found hard to refuse. They were sitting out on the inn's back patio on her lunch break, her drinking a coffee and he drinking a water. She was tapping her bare feet to a beat in her head, multitasking between that and convincing him to go to ISLAND FEVER! whose motto was 'You've never danced like this before!'.

"Rory, I don't dance. And bop-hop?" She let go of his hand now that she had his attention again.

She shrugged, ignored his comment, and stopped tapping her feet, moving them to the railing, "Neither do I. You sit, talk, eat, drink, be merry!"

"Is there anything you don't do?"

She glared at him, smacking his arm, "It's fun, Logan. You can find some girl to go home with and I can get drunk!" She grinned brightly at him.

"That's not funny." He remembered clearly what happened the last time she decided to get drunk.

"I thought so." She went back to tapping her pink-painted toes to the imaginary beat, tapping her fingers on the coffee mug. "Oh, look! Steph and Colin. I wonder where they were."

"Personally, I'd rather not know."

"Logan, TMI."

Steph and Colin walked up the steps from the beach to where they were sitting.

"Steph, are you and Colin going to the thing tomorrow night?" Rory asked.

"Yep."

Rory looked at Logan, "See, they're going."

"Yes, but they're dating. There's a difference."

"So? You can't go with a friend?"

"Not if I'll spend the whole night beating up guys for feeling her up."

"I don't need you to protect me. Besides, do you really think I'm like that? God!"

Steph and Colin looked at each other, choosing now as a good time to get out before they were dragged into the fight.

"No! I didn't mean it like that. Rory!" He stood up as she was getting up from her spot, and she left the mug on the table before stepping into her flip flops and looking at him briefly.

"I'll see you later," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground and stared intently at a nail in the wood.

He put his head in his hands and groaned loudly. Didn't they just get over one of their fights? Sure, like every other fucking time before this, thing had started out fine. She was just teasing him, nothing new, nothing he couldn't handle. A few sarcastic remarks and now he was trying to think of a funeral song for himself, one that could define this moment perfectly.

It was just that comment about guys feeling her up. Did she really not see the way guys looked at her when they passed by on the street? Did she not see guys just eying her up and down, only seeing her as a quick lay?

She was either very confident or very oblivious; he didn't know which was better at this point.

The truth? He was jealous as hell of any guy who ever looked at her like that. While sure, he had given her a quick glance over with his eyes before, the first day when they argued at the counter, it was never the way they looked at her: like she was an object. A very pretty object, at that.

Now what was he going to do? Island Fever…which sounded like it totally sucked right now seemed to be the only option, unless he could think of something before that.

---------

"Here's the white skirt." Lorelai held out her arm and stuck out her bottom lip when Rory refused to move from her position on the bed. "You're making mommy walk all the way over there?"

"Move one step and throw it. Or concentrate really hard and move it with your mind."

Her eyes were closed; she was still incredibly pissed off at Logan. How could he think so little of her? Augh, she didn't even want to go there.

"Fine, Mom-"

"Shh, I'm concentrating." Rory opened one eye to see Lorelai with her eyes squeezed shut, holding the skirt out, apparently actually trying to move the skirt with her mind.

"Huh, didn't go anywhere," she said, opening one eye and staring at the skirt in her hand.

"Must not have concentrated hard enough."

"Well, you just _had_ to start talking."

Rory held out her hand, "Skirt." Lorelai tossed it on the end of her bed. "Was that so hard?"

"Psh, yeah. What shirt are you wearing?"

Rory pointed to her closet, the obvious answer being she didn't know. Lorelai pulled out a spaghetti strapped teal tank top and walked to Rory's vanity table. "This and this." She held up a charm necklace her grandmother had sent her for her birthday.

It was two gold chains and held about fifteen charms. Eiffel Tower, a heart, simple diamond, shoe, snow flake, coffee mug, all things Rory had either seen or things Emily Gilmore thought she would like.

"Shoes?" Lorelai asked, setting the things on her bed. She was always the one who made sure Rory looked normal when she left the sixth floor, not like the nerdy bookworm she really was.

"White flip flops." She closed her eyes when Lorelai nodded her head in agreement. "Wake me up in a half hour," she told her mother as she watched her move to the edge of the bed.

Lorelai smoothed hair away from her daughters face and kissed her forehead. "Don't think about what he said too hard, baby. He's just protecting you," she whispered in her ear, and left her room.

She had almost fallen asleep when she heard a faint knock on her door. "Knock, knock," Lorelai said.

"I haven't even fallen asleep yet."

"Tough luck, babe. Get up."

"Can I not go?"

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore!" Rory flinched at the use of her full name. "I am not going to allow my only teenage daughter to stay home from the biggest party of the year because some guy thinks she is easy and that any guy can just weasel his way up her skirt."

"Wow, Mom, thanks. Was that supposed to be encouraging?"

"Just go shower. I'll curl your hair."

"Yes, ma'am."

-----------

Rory and Lane were walking towards the far side of the island, to where the large span of beach was where the Island Fever always was held. Rory was in her white a-little-past-knee-length skirt and tank top, complete with the flip flops, necklace, and wavy hair. Lane was in jeans and an old punk rock t-shirt, flip flops and her black hair straightened.

They were ready to party. Or cry. Whichever one came first for either.

When they arrived, the party was already in full swing. Meaning Finn was already drinking, Logan was talking to some blonde by the bonfire, and Colin and Steph were sitting outside the group, her tucked in his lap, both laughing at something.

She could pinpoint the events of the evening to that exact moment. That moment where a pang of jealousy ripped through her, cutting her heart. She wanted that, wanted it so bad. Dean never did that with her; it was always kiss or make out or never do anything, so fickle she could hardly keep up.

She made it her goal that night to find a guy, find a guy, how desperate did that sound, to be that for her. Someone to talk to, laugh with, sit with, do _whatever _with, and actually have a good time, feel the connection.

She picked up a glass of red punch, what was in it, she had no idea, and began her evening.

----------

She was dancing with some guy, Rob or Bob or something –ob. She didn't really remember. She was also working on her sixth glass of punch, which was most likely spiked. She titled her head back and laughed, feeling the heat from the bonfire and the pulse of the music through her.

She stopped suddenly, feeling someone's hands on her hips, pulling her close to them. It was the Nameless –Ob guy, his face leering too close too hers for her comfort. She pulled away and looked down at his hands, his fingers spread across her hips, and cringed.

She felt someone else pull on her upper arm, away from –Ob. It was Logan. She had seen him throughout the night, dancing with some ditzy blonde who had worked with Dean, making her sick to her stomach. All that time, Logan had kept an eye on her, watching her flit from idiot to jerk and back again, going through plastic glass after plastic glass of spiked punch, making sure he was the one to get her to her own bed that night.

"Hey, let's go, Ror." He was taking her away from the crowd, away from the people.

"No, I'm not done here yet."

"Oh, believe me, you're more than done."

"Nope, not close. Because I'm just some huge whore, right, Logan? Isn't that it?"

He took a step closer to her, and she had to look up at him from where the sand she was standing in got washed away by the water. How did they get in the water, she wondered randomly. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"Too late for that, Logan. Leave me alone."

She pushed him away from her and wrapped her arms around her stomach, and also wondering what happened to her flip flops, which somehow got lost in the course of the evening.


	6. Small World

**A/N: thanks for the reviews! heres the chapter i promised. i may have one up by the end of the weekend, maybe not. but now i really ahve to go to a meeting with a counselor so ill make this short. haha this one sorta just stops, youll see what i mean. but enjoy and review. **

**chapter six**

She groaned and rolled over at the shrill ring of her cell phone. She blocked out the noise with her pillow and waited for the voicemail to pick it up, abruptly falling back asleep.

She awoke again two hours later to a knocking on her door, and mumbled an entry.

"Here's water," Logan said, tossing a bottled water on her bed, along with a bottle of aspirin.

She sat up, clutching her head in her hands to lessen the headache of her hangover from the night before, "Go away. I really don't need you in here to tell me I told you so."

"I wasn't going to," he replied shortly. "Your mom wanted me to tell you she needs you to work at noon. It's eleven now, just in case you were wondering."

She nodded and stared out the window. Logan shifted on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Well, I'll just be going. I have someone waiting downstairs."

"Ah, well, we don't want to keep her waiting, do we?" He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and she closed her eyes to his touch.

"Twelve o'clock," he reminded her.

------------

It was six at night, and sure enough, Rory had been working since twelve that afternoon. She hadn't seen Logan since he came to wake her up that morning. What would she even say to him? Last night was such a mess.

After he left her alone on the beach, he walked back to the party with only one glance back at her. She was sobbing uncontrollably in the sand, waves crashing up against her body where she was sitting on the shore.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, but when he came back some time later, she couldn't cry anymore, and all her clothes were soaked through, sand sticking to her legs that were folded underneath her. He handed her a bottle of water and sat next to her in the sand, not minding the cold ocean water that slammed into them as it hit the shore.

She turned to him, her blue eyes wide and full of tears. "It's all his fault," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the waves.

She dropped her gaze and he crouched a little to catch her eye again. "Who's fault?" he pried, praying he wasn't overstepping it.

"Dean's," she whispered again, her voice wavering and again, barely audible.

"Who?" He hadn't heard her; he wasn't just trying to be smart.

"Dean," she said louder, clearer, steadier.

"Who's Dean?" he asked, obviously confused.

She sighed and stood up, walking to a little clearing of grass behind a lone palm tree, clearly a place she came to, and laid down.

"He was my boyfriend. And a waiter at Luna's." It all clicked in his head; the day where she wanted to eat at Mona's, her reluctance to go out with him in general, everything.

"We went out for a year and a half, basically since I got here when I was fifteen, but I turned sixteen not long after that, and that's when he asked me out. He was delivering food for this little party my mom was having because she felt bad for making us leave Connecticut and everything behind right before my sweet sixteen."

She seemed sober now, to him at least, and he really didn't know if she was or not. He just sat and listened to her talk, staring at her as she avoided eye contact, choosing to look out at the ocean instead. She sat up and turned to him.

"He wasn't anything special; I didn't feel anything completely phenomenal for him. No sparks when we touched, no shivers, no…butterflies in my stomach." She laughed at the stupidity of it all.

"So why?"

"I was alone. For the first time in my life, I was by myself. Mom was running the inn, I hadn't met Steph yet; it just seemed safe at the time."

"At the time?"

"About six months ago, there was a party; Lane's band was playing, so we went. It was a huge party. I'm sure by looking at me you can see I'm not really a party person. I'm a bookworm, a nerd. Well, this was pretty much my first true teenage party."

"When you were seventeen?"

"Shut up. I said I was a nerd. Anyways, people were getting stoned in the back bedroom of this guy's house and Dean brings me some drinks, which, surprise surprise, were alcoholic. We were both pretty wasted. He brought me to the room next to the other one, where the people were all completely trashed, and he got mad when I wouldn't have sex with him."

She was about to start crying again, her eyes pooled with tears, and he began to feel uncomfortable with where this story was going. He didn't want to hear about some guy pretty much raping her, only because he would get super pissed and go beat the shit out of him.

"He was my ride home, the party was a little bit away from the inn, and I didn't know anyone. So, we had sex. Then he apologized for it. _Apologized_, Logan."

"About a week later, I was going to Luna's with Steph and Lane, and he was making out with some chick in the back booth. I left and he followed me to the inn, where he tells me he's been screwing four other girls since my seventeenth birthday party."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not even that. I honestly almost didn't care he had done that. Just the fact that I did _that _with him made me so mad. I haven't really done any dating or anything, really, since then. I'll be damned if I give my heart or body for some guy just to shatter again."

"So that guy you were dancing with wouldn't have done that to you?"

She glared at him, "What do you know about this? You love 'em and leave 'em."

"What were you even thinking when you shoved yourself at guys?"

"I just wanted the feeling one more time? Don't you get it? That feeling you get, like, hey, maybe things will be okay and that you're loved and somebody actually does care, and it seemed like the fastest way to get it."

"No, what you did was the fastest way to get raped."

"I know that, okay! So I was stupid, careless, irresponsible. Slap my wrists and lock me in a room, for God's sake." She stopped and looked at him, frowning. "It's not like you have any room to talk. What you do is worse than me."

"I have control."

She snorted and took a drink from the water, "Yeah, right."

He looked at his watch and looked back at her, "I should get you back."

"I can take care of myself."

"Rory, don't argue with me, okay? It's two in the morning, and I'm sure you gave more than one guy the message that they can bed you tonight, so I'll be taking you back. So, come on."

He stretched out his hand and she gingerly placed hers in his. She looked at their intertwined hands. His had was considerably larger than hers, big and tan, while hers was slender and thin, her ivory skin contrasting with his tanned skin.

He led her along the beach, past the Island Fever! where the bonfire was slowly dying, but the party was still in full swing. She saw Colin and Steph; he was standing behind her, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist and his chin resting on her head. Finn was trying to convince Lane to dance, his hand outstretched to her.

Logan followed her gaze, "It was a pretty sucky island experience, you know."

"Sorry. Usually they're more fun."

"No problem. Maybe I could come back next year; see how it's changed."

She smiled at him, "Yeah, maybe."

Now, standing at the lobby desk, she had no idea what sort of thought pattern was going through her head the night before.

She had almost given away her secret, mentioning Connecticut. Luckily, Logan hadn't caught on, or at least, she hoped he hadn't. That most definitely wouldn't have been good.

She was pulled out of her daydream by the person of her thoughts walking up to the desk, a peppy brunette bounding in after him.

"Hey, how late is the dining room open?" he asked.

She looked at her watch, "A half hour longer."

He led the girl away and then came back, "I told her I needed to go talk to someone real quick."

"Glad to know I'm your getaway excuse. She seems…happy."

"I think she was a cheerleader." They both looked towards the room where she was sitting at the table, bobbing her head side to side.

"Did you need something besides that?" Rory asked.

"Connecticut?" Oh, shit, she thought.

She feigned ignorance, "What?"

"Last night, you said---" He was cut off by Rory's cell phone ringing. She held up her finger to make him wait for a second and flipped it open.

"Gilmore! Finally, you answered your damn phone!" Paris Gellar's voice boomed through the receiver, making Rory almost drop the phone. It was loud enough for anyone in a five foot radius to hear and she slouched down behind the counter, sitting against the wall behind the desk.

"Paris, yeah, sorry. I wasn't awake enough to pick it up this morning."

"That's how you treat your friend of five years?"

"It was nine in the morning, Paris. What would you expect from me?"

By now, Logan had sat down next to her, listening to the conversation. He was eavesdropping, he knew, but he heard "Gilmore", not to mention "Paris", and he also didn't want to go face Kelsey, the peppy brunette who was visiting the island for a cheerleading competition.

The Gilmores were a very, very prestigious family in Hartford, Connecticut. Color him curious, but between last night's explanation and this phone call, he was pretty sure that this girl he knew was a Gilmore.

He also knew Paris Gellar. They had gone to grade school together in a Hartford private academy, but weren't exactly friends. Then, he went to boarding school for high school and she wound up at Chilton Academy. Last he heard, she had blabbed her loss of virginity over C-SPAN and was now heading to Yale.

"Paris, I don't think that Jamie meant it in that way," Rory was saying. "Maybe he just wants to take a break."

"Oh, I'll show him a break. It's over. He can go flounce around France all he wants."

"Just calm down. Remember what happened last time you got angry? You shared your private life to half the world through C-SPAN. Even I saw it."

"You just have to hang that over my head, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. What are friends for?"

"Speaking of friends, when are you coming back? We miss you."

"By we, you mean you and Tristan, since you have more or less been attached at the hip. Even when you were going out with Jamie, he was your friend! Simply unbelievable."

Logan was still there, moving his finger in the wrap it up motion, waiting for her to get done with the phone call. "Okay, Paris, I'll have to call you back later. A friend is having some separation anxiety disorders."

"Talk to you later, Gilmore." She snapped her phone shut and turned to look at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"Rory Gilmore. That's your name."

"Don't wear it out," she said, tapping her fingers on the carpet nervously.

"Connecticut." One word. It wasn't a question, either. Everything could be shot to shit right here.

"What are you talking about?" She stood up and walked around the desk, straightening the plants that were situated around the room. He simply followed her.

"Last night you said you were from Connecticut."

"Last night I was drunk."

"No, I don't think so." She had backed up against the wall, he was cornering her in.

"Richard and Emily Gilmore. Sound familiar?" Her breathing turned shallow and she shook her head.

"Logan, stop. It won't do any good."

"Back to my life? You're from Hartford." He stepped away from her and he ran a hand over his mouth. "I don't know why I didn't see it before."

"Logan, I just, I didn't know how to tell you. Mom and I left that behind us." She was losing him, fast, too.

"You're supposed to be some smart, normal girl. Not some floozy from back home."

"I am a smart, normal girl. I wasn't raised in that. My grandparents have nothing to do with my life; not in that sense, anyways. Yes, they're from high society, who gives a crap? That's not who I am. You know that."

"So, at the end of the summer, you're going back to Hartford?" She nodded her head. "For what?"

"School, well, technically, I'll be going to New Haven and commuting to Stars Hollow, which is this really small town between the two. But I live in Stars Hollow and my grandparents live in Hartford, but I'll be going to New Haven for school…" Her voice trailed off as she realized she was rambling.

"Small world," he said, staring at her.

"Yeah, small world."


	7. Remember Tonight

**A/N: mer, okay. this one might be it for a while...this week will suck and prom is next weekend, and it will just be busy busy busy. most of this is filler, but sort of not? i dont know how to categorize it so i guess i just wont. :-) tell me what you think. enjoy and review. **

**chapter seven**

Kelsey, the over-excited, teen-boppy cheerleader, had long since gone home. Rory had been off work for a few hours, and Logan had finally wrapped his head around the fact that yes, Rory was from the same upper-class elite he was from.

After all, it was two AM.

They were sitting in a booth in the now-closed dining area of the hotel, her eating a piece of French silk pie, and he drinking an iced tea.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" She waved her fork in front of him, and he smirked.

"No, I'd hate to deprive you of your pie." She stuck her tongue out and glared.

"Well, this is darn good pie. You're missing out."

"I'll just read the sonnets you seem to be writing to it."

"No need to be cruel, my friend."

"I'm just saying. You must be a much-loved employee for Caesar to save you that pie."

She grinned at him, "Nope, just the owner's daughter."

"You're using your rights for food?"

"And what do you use yours for? Three month stays in the Bahamas. Why are you even here for three months?"

He smirked at her, his head titled to one side. "Extenuating circumstances."

She snorted. "Which translates to you got in trouble and don't want to stay with your parents all summer."

"It is what it is," he said, shrugging.

She laughed, "Unbelievable." She scooped another piece of pie from the metal pan it was in onto her plate, only looking up when she heard giggling coming from the swinging doors to the kitchen, followed by the figures of Steph and Colin walking out, arms around one another.

They walked over to their booth and motioned for Logan to move so they could sit next to each other. Logan sighed and moved next to Rory, who had scooted over in her seat.

"Hey, you took the pie!" Steph exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Rory.

She smiled, "First come, first serve."

"Doesn't mean you have to take the whole thing."

Rory shoved the last piece over, "Knock yourself out. I've eaten too much."

"I think your eating habits and metabolism should be a medical study. You eat so much and don't gain a pound."

Rory smiled, "All from the wonderful Lorelai."

"I heard my name," Lorelai said, coming in from the lobby. She saw the four sitting around the table and smiled. "What's going on here? A little two AM powwow?"

Steph pointed at Rory, "She ate the pie."

Lorelai gasped, "All of it?"

"I saved her a piece!" Rory defended herself.

"What about poor mommy? The mommy who sat in birth with you, who took you away from the wolves, who feeds and provides you, and gave you those lovely genes that let you eat the pie?"

"That was some ramble, Mom. I see where I get it from."

"Yeah, well, I need to go call Luke. A water pipe broke in the kitchen and Michel won't call Bob at Pipes n' Stuff. Local plumbers," she mumbled, shaking her head as she walked back out towards the lobby.

"So its normal for you guys to be up at this time, I take it?" Colin asked, seeing how Lorelai was hardly shocked at finding them there, two of them shoving their faces with pie.

"It's a weekly ritual. Caesar drops off a pie from Luke's, Rory gets to it first, eats more than half of it, and I get the rest, while we talk girl talk," Steph explained, tapping her fingers on Colin's knuckles, where his hand was resting on the table.

There it was again. That pang of jealousy Rory felt when she saw the pair at Island Fever! and now again, as she sat there, digesting her French silk pie. Her eyes flickered down to their entwined hands and she pursed her lips.

Logan noticed the look on her face and followed her gaze, remembering what she had said only the night before. "I just wanted the feeling one more time? Don't you get it? That feeling you get, like, hey, maybe things will be okay and that you're loved and somebody actually does care…"

He wrapped his hand around hers where it was resting on the leather of the booth seat and intertwined their fingers. She stiffened at his touch and he looked at her. She kept her eyes on the table, not wanting to look at Steph and Colin, who were now whispering about God knows what, or Logan, whose hand had a death grip on her now.

He squeezed her hand softly and she looked up at him, "Let's go for a walk," he said, pulling her from the booth. She stood and put her flip flops back on, which had been sitting by the back of the booth, and straightened her white halter dress with the one free hand she had.

He was walking quickly, pulling her behind him, and she had to jog to keep up. "Where are we going?" she asked, laughing.

"Just out."

"I should be getting back, though. Add last night and working all day, I won't be a happy camper tomorrow, and you don't want to have to deal with that, do you?"

"Do you work tomorrow?" he asked, concerned.

She smiled at him, "Relax. Tomorrow night, at six. I can sleep in because you will _not_ be waking me up like last time, correct?"

"I make no promises."

"You better not, Huntzberger. You will be one sorry person if you even think about it."

He smirked, "We'll see."

They walked outside, side by side, their hands still intertwined from when he grabber he hand at the table. She instinctively leaned into him, unconscious to both of them. They sat on a wooden bench swing that was set up in the garden outside the inn, swinging back and forth.

She began tapping her fingers on his hand and he turned to her slowly, "Have a little too much coffee there today, Rory?"

She smiled at him, and in the moonlight he could her cheeks turning a faint hue of pink, "Maybe."

"You're an addict."

"I am not!"

"Denial."

"Well, if I'm addicted to coffee, then you're addicted to sex."

He laughed, placing his hand, and naturally, her hand, over his heart. "Ouch, that hurts."

She looked less than amused. "I'm serious. You're probably psyched for college just for the women."

"Okay, I'll have you know that I did nothing with Kelsey tonight."

"Wow, congratulations. She was probably a little too excited for your liking."

"At least I don't expect anything from it. I know its only a one night stand. You, on the other hand…"

"Don't you dare hold that against me, Logan." By now, she had jerked her hand from his, and wrapped her arms around herself for both warmth and defensively, a habit she did often when they fought, he noticed.

He saw her shivering and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, which she promptly shrugged off, and she stood up from the swing.

"Let's get you inside," he said, standing up after her.

"Leave me alone," she murmured, walking back into the lobby.

"No." He caught up with her and wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her movements. "I'm not going to leave you alone."

"Why not?"

"You know you don't want me to leave you alone," he whispered in her ear as she glared at him.

They had reached the staircase, and she had reached her highest irritation level.

"Jesus! What is your problem? Do you think you hung the moon or something? I'll have you know that I _do_ want you to leave me alone because all you do is give me headaches and make me be on my guard all the time."

She stomped up the stairs to Floor Five, which was his floor, and stopped.

He was smiling, amused at her rant, and she threw her hands up.

"I do not only give you headaches, Rory. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been gracing me with your presence for the past month. And second of all, I am more on my guard than…"

He was stopped by her pressing her lips firmly against his. Her hands rested on his chest and his arms slid around her waist, to their previous position.

Just as quickly as she had initiated it, she had pulled away. Her eyes wide, hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God," she murmured repeatedly. She walked past him quickly and ran up the last flight to her floor.

"Rory!" he called after her, skipping the stairs two at a time after her. She was halfway down the hall, walking quickly, when he snaked his arm back around her waist, pulling her back to him.

She stared at him for a moment, her blue eyes reflected in his brown eyes. He kissed her quickly, and after she had responded, more passionately, something he had been wanting to do since the day she gave him the tour of the island.

She pulled back again, "I have to go," she whispered, kissing him quickly one more time, before pulling out of his grasp that his hands held on her hips.

She hadn't walked five steps before she turned around and he was already where she was.

She laughed into the kiss, smiling against his lips, and softly pushed him away.

"I really have to go," she whispered.

He nodded and let go of her hand, which he had had a tight grip on, and let her go into her room, uncertain of the way things may go tomorrow, and wary when he thought of all the things they needed to talk about.


	8. Liar, I Think So

**A/N: thank you sooooooooo much for all the reviews! they made me happy. :-) but...story alerts and reviews..i havent been emailed for about three days with any. and they have been updated/i have gotten reviews? is this just me? or is there something wrong with ffn? i dont know..anyways. this is kinda drawn out, i was bored. i did this during my brit lit (talking about poetry and saltwater taffy?) and my free, both 80 minutes..so yes. i may or may not have one up by weekend? im not making any promises. tell me what you think. enjoy and review.  
**

**chapter eight**

Day: Friday. Time: eight o'clock at night, one week after Logan and Rory's incident. Time left of Logan's stay and before Rory leaves: two months. Status of relationship: comfortably avoiding each other. Whereabouts at that moment: Rory at the front lobby desk, slowly working her last hour of the night; Logan at Luna's Bar and Grill, enjoying drinks with Finn and Colin.

"Thank you, have a nice stay," Rory said, smiling at the elderly couple standing in front of her who had just checked in for their first-time retirement vacation.

Steph came up next to her, chomping on what was another celery stick. "You'll turn green," Rory told her, her nose scrunched in disgust.

"I like green."

"Shouldn't you be off with Colin?"

"He's at Luna's with Finn and Logan." Rory tensed at his name and turned away, causing Steph to raise her eyebrow.

"Rory Gilmore. What happened?" She watched her friend cover her face with her hands.

"Nothing." Her voice was muffled.

"What was that? Did you say nothing?" Rory nodded. "Somehow I don't believe you."

Rory lowered her hands and looked at Steph, then looked down at the desk, "Wekinda sortamighthavekissed?" Rory said, increasing the speed of her speech with each word.

Steph rolled her eyes, "One more time?"

"We kinda sorta might have kissed," she said, slowly emphasizing each word.

"What!" Steph screeched.

This time Rory rolled her eyes, "Don't look so surprised. You were practically shoving us together that night."

"Which night?"

"The night when we were eating the pie? You and Colin were canoodling in the opposite booth? Ring a bell?"

"Mmm, yeah. Have you talked to him since?"

Rory went about straightening things on the desk, avoiding Stephanie. "Rory Gilmore, answer the question."

"No. I haven't."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Go hang out with Colin, Steph, I have to work." Rory walked away to try find a couple that was due back from their snorkeling trip, leaving Steph, who was shaking her head and mumbling under her breath, behind.

------------

"Explain yourself," Steph demanded, pointing at Logan in the booth at Luna's, Lane trailing behind her.

Steph had taken it upon herself to fix this little problem that seemed to be going on between the potential couple, contacting Lane as soon has Rory had left. They had walked, very fast for that matter, to Luna's, in hopes of still catching the trio before they left for their evening escapades.

"Uhh," Logan stuttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Boys," she mumbled under her breath. "I'm talking about Rory, Logan." She said it as if she was talking to a little kid, which to her, it was like she was. He didn't know anything about what he was doing.

"What about her?" It was true, he had been avoiding her. But it wasn't as if she was going out of her way to try to talk to him, either. He wouldn't have even known what to say, anyways. He liked her? Maybe? Maybe not. She wasn't a standard girl in his bed, that's for sure.

"What do you mean what about her? You know what I'm talking about!"

"Look, Steph, this is between me and her. Leave it alone," Logan managed through his gritted teeth, standing up from the booth.

"You better fix this, Logan Huntzberger!" Stephanie called after him.

He walked out of Luna's, accidentally running into a waiter. He mumbled a quick apology to the tall guy he had walked into, seeing his nametag DEAN. He locked his jaw at the sight of him, knowing it must be the guy Rory had been with.

He brushed by him and out the door, quickly so he didn't stay and beat the crap out of him. He was on a mission. A mission to find Rory, wherever she was. Didn't he see her working this afternoon?

He walked to the inn and he saw her through the windows of the French doors. She was talking animatedly with a guy about his age, using her hands expressively as she talked. He watched the guy amble off towards the dining room, and Logan took this time to go inside.

She was smiling when she saw him, but her face soon turned to a frown. She walked quickly behind the desk and began straightening the pen holder.

"Can we talk?" he asked urgently.

"I'm working; come back later."

"No, we need to talk about this now."

She sighed, "Logan, just leave it alone."

"Please?"

"I get off in fifteen minutes. Come back then," she said, her eyes never leaving the computer screen.

He rapped his hand on the desk before walking away. Who was the guy? He was surprised with the burning feeling in his stomach; a sort of twisting feeling. What the hell was that?

Jealousy? He laughed quietly to himself at the notion. Him, jealous? He'd just as soon deface that Sistine Chapel. Laugh as he might, he feeling wouldn't go away.

He mainly walked around the inn a few times, outside, inside, wherever he wouldn't have to run into her before the time she said. He didn't want to seem eager to solve whatever the hell was going on.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in the lobby, standing in front of the desk, staring at her as she rolled her eyes at him as she talked on the phone to a persistent guest.

"No, ma'am, we don't have skiing here. Water skiing, I'm sure, but this is an island, not a ski resort in Colorado. We don't have snow. Yes, I'm sure. Okay, well, give us a call if you ever want to visit the Bahamas. Thanks." She slammed the phone down and made him jump.

"Bad day?"

"The worst. How many people can actually think there is snow down here? That's the fourth call I've gotten today!"

"Well, maybe they're just giving excuses because they want to talk to you?"

"Not likely. Come on, I'm off. Michel is supposed to be here. Mom made him take night hours." Rory grinned at the idea of not working until three in the morning and being able to sleep in.

They walked in silence to Mona's restaurant, both lost in their thoughts.

What could he possibly need to talk to her about? Yes, they kissed. A very nice kiss. A perfect kiss. The one that would only make sense for them: one in the middle of an argument. The problem? She started it. That would mean that she had wanted to. That, or she was so pissed off it was the only thing she could think of to shut him up.

The bar and grill was packed. It was Friday, karaoke and dance night. People could get up and sing while others danced, or they brought in a DJ to play music and let the people do whatever, like a club.

Despite the crowd, with Rory's reputation as the daughter of the owner of the best inn on the island, they were seated immediately and coincidentally, were seated at the same table as the last time they had an important conversation that this restaurant; the table on the patio overlooking the beach, except this time it was night, creating a romantic setting that neither were comfortable with.

The music was filtering through the open French doors that led inside, where the floor was lit up with strobe lights, a DJ was set up on the stage, a techno beat pulsing through the walls.

She leaned back in the wrought-iron chair. "Well, isn't this interesting."

"Can you stop being the Ice Queen over there, please?"

"You asked me to talk, so talk."

"We need to discuss the kiss…what happened."

"Woah, I think the sky turned purple. Logan Huntzberger wants to talk about this. A kiss? You have sex with hundreds of girls with no qualms, but with one kiss, you've got your panties all in a knot?"

"It was more than one kiss."

"That's not the point. This isn't you. Let it go." She started to get up when he grabbed her hand.

"It's your fault," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said," he began, "That it is your fault."

"How is this my fault? You didn't have to kiss me back. You could have just let me be embarrassed and dig my hole to China, but no."

"Would you stop talking for a second?" He pulled her hand down and she landed in her seat with a plop. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay, it is partly your fault. You didn't have to kiss me. Understandable, I get it." She glared at his ego and he winced. "Tough crowd tonight."

"Damn straight. Can I leave?" She stood up again but with his stare, she sat back down slowly in her seat. She jumped as the techno song ended and there was a loud silence, before a slow jazzy song played through the speakers.

He held out his hand, "Dance with me?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Don't leave a guy hanging, Rory." Her head jerked up at his words and she saw he was smirking. She thought about the irony of his words as she carefully placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up off the chair.

She fit in his arms, she noticed, being pulled flush against him as they danced by themselves on the patio of Mona's. There were dozens of couples dancing inside, swaying to the melody.

With his arms around her waist and hers around his neck, dancing close, her head pressed on his shoulder, one would think it was young love. They knew better.

"If you really hate me," he started, his words muffled by her hair where his head was buried, "I'll leave you alone."

She pulled her head from his shoulder and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "I don't hate you," she whispered, her cheek brushing his, "But sometimes, it would be easier if I could."

He smirked at her words, "I think the feeling's mutual."

She frowned, "You hate me?"

He kissed her forehead, "Never."

"Liar."

"So where does this leave us?"

"Friends?"

"Who's the liar now?"

"I think, maybe, we should leave it like that. I'm not ready for a relationship, and neither are you."

"Hey, I resent that."

"Logan, you have a different girl in your bed every night. Commitment isn't really your forte."

"What if I said I wanted to try?"

"I already told you that I'm not ready for a relationship. Dean threw me off my groove."

He raised his eyebrows, "You had a groove?"

She blushed, "Well, no. Not a groove, but my whole dating status."

"Yeah, you went from being attached to single."

"You know what I mean. Please, can we just keep it like this for a little while?" She rested her head on his shoulder, her nose brushing the skin of the crook of his neck. "Please?" she whispered.

What else could he do? Suddenly, a flash of her with another guy came to his mind. "Ror?"

"Hmm?"

"Who was that guy you were with earlier?"

"At the inn?"

"Yeah."

"Jealous, Huntzberger?"

"Yeah." There. He admitted it. He was jealous of any guy who talked to Rory as carefree as he used to, before all of this. Yes, he admitted that he was falling hard, not to mention fast, for a certain Rory Gilmore.

"He's a guy from Pipes n' Stuff. I was telling him a story of a time Mom was determined to get this mouse from under the sink; his name was Edward, according to her. So then she thought he was in the pipes, and it all went downhill from there."

He smirked at her ramble. "Sounds like your mom."

"She's one of a kind."

"So I don't have any more competition?" he asked, changing the subject back to the guy who had been with Rory.

"Well, there is the guy at the beach, in the beanie?" she said, referring to the guy she had been dancing with first at Island Fever!

"That's not funny."

"I know; I was being serious," she said with a smile on her face.

"Rory."

"Ugh, Mr. Grumpy."

They sat back down as the song ended and a waiter came to order their food.

"I'm being serious."

"How is this going to work? I can't go out with guys and you get to go out with all the girls you want?"

"No, I didn't say that."

"But that's how you meant it."

"You don't know that."

"Please, Logan. We aren't dating. We decided on friends. We can still see other people, and we can stay friends."

"You decided on friends," he reminded her. "I had no other choice."

She sighed, "Stop making this hard. You wanted to talk, I told you my case." She reached into her woven purse and threw a ten on the table. "That should cover me."

He stood up next to her, and entwined their fingers, "This isn't what I wanted."

"What did you expect? For me to fall at your feet, being a weak girl who can't keep her dress zipped?"

"You're anything but weak, and you know that's not what I wanted."

"Then what?"

He shook his head, "Nevermind. It doesn't matter."

Okay, he lied. It _did _matter. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to risk his friendship or any part of the relationship with her. Sappy, yes. True, yes.

She smiled softly and was enveloped by the crowd. The last he saw of her that night, she was dodging out of the way of an over-excited Kelsey the cheerleader who seemed to be practicing her cheers on the floor.


	9. Toils and Snares

**A/N: eee! 100 reviews! you do not even know how happy and grateful i am. thank you sooo much:-) mer, its been crazy here in the big O, hence this taking about a week-ish. between prom, impending finals, and upcoming spain trip...im about dead. but hey, what the heck. its all fun. so here is chapter..nine? yeah thats what it says...enjoy and review. **

**chapter nine**

It was the third blonde. Rory grimaced as she looked back down at the reservation book, casting her eyes down from Logan and his girl of the day. It seemed that ever since that Friday night three days ago, he had been with a different girl each night, all blonde girls that Rory recognized as waitresses from Mona's or local bars.

She assumed that none of them could string words together for a sentence, let alone a coherent one.

And to Rory's surprise, this hurt her. They still talked a lot, eating lunch together sometimes, but not like they used to. Also, they're hanging out time was done by three o'clock so he had plenty of time for a decent evening with the latest bimbo.

She sighed as she watched him slide his arm around this girl's waist. She tried to keep her eyes down, but it was harder than she expected.

"Excuse me, miss?" Her attention was jerked back to the honeymooning couple waiting patiently in front of the desk. She had been not-so-discreetly staring at Logan and his date, not noticing that there were guests waiting for her.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," she said, opening up the reservation book on the desk and the computer program.

She shoved all thoughts of Logan from her head.

----------

Logan smirked and snaked his arm around his date's waist. They were in the lobby of the hotel, waiting for Finn and Colin so they could go eat. What was this girl's name? Misty, no, that was yesterday. Star, yeah, it may be Star. He just won't call her by her name anytime soon.

She had just told him something, not funny or witty like Rory would say, but her comments had become a dim memory to him. Now all they talked about was stiff, uptight conversation about the weather and current events.

It was pissing him off. He turned his gaze to Rory, who was smiling at a young couple, the ones she told him she hated, on that first day. The ones where they're so in love, you can just feel it, see it.

He looked away quickly as her gaze shifted to him, her eyes lingering longer than necessary on his arm around this slut's waist.

Lovers or best friends? There was a thin, thin line for the two, and they were tiptoeing it, even charging right over it more than once.

Wait, lovers? As in boyfriend and girlfriend? Where the hell did that come from? Okay, time to take might-be Star out now, away from Rory.

"Um, Logan?" The girl was trying to get his attention. "This is boring." She popped her bubble-gum, the pink material expanding in front of her face. "Can I go?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, bye."

She smiled and walked out of the inn. He walked up to the now line-free desk where Rory was on the cell phone.

"No, Paris, I told you I was coming in the middle of August."

"Rory, you are a Gilmore and a Hayden!" she yelled into the phone. "You are expected at this party!"

"It's just another one of my grandmother's hoity-toity gatherings where she can try to sell me off to the D.A.R. and show off her new draperies. No thanks." Her voice was flat and she sounded bored, compared to Paris's incessant screaming.

"Don't forget to give you away with the proper dowry to the highest bidding future Yale alum."

"You're making me nauseous. Stop, please."

"Ugh, Tristan is calling me. I'll talk to you later. You better be home for this, Gilmore."

She snapped her phone shut and looked at Logan with tired eyes. "I can't believe its only three and I'm here 'til nine."

"Its money."

"Easy for you to say. You have more credit cards then…"

"You're going to say something you'll regret," he cut her off with a smirk.

"Who says I'll regret it?"

"Do you get a break?"

"Yep." She looked at her watch, "I have an hour right now, but I'm supposed to be meeting someone at Mona's."

"Right."

"What happened to Sassy or Spicy or whatever they're calling them these days?"

"She got bored."

"Ah, of course.

He look around casually, "So, who you going out with?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "No one in particular. No one that you know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, speaking of which, I'm late. Bye." She walked quickly out the door without a look back.

He watched her go and sighed, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk. She seemed mad, or at least evasive, and not so thrilled to talk to him. Take her out, maybe? Try to talk to her like a normal person, not yelling and screaming that ended in perfect kisses, which after only twice, they have mastered down to an art?

He went to talk to Steph, the one who knew her second best, next to her mother. He found her eating in the kitchen, talking to Lane.

"Steph, good, just who I need to talk to."

She glared. "Nice job at fixing this, Huntzberger."

He held up his hands in defense. "I was working on it; she's not exactly cooperating."

"Don't give me excuses. You guys are both idiots! Do you not see it?"

"See what?"

"Oh my God! You're hopeless."

"Where is she going on her break?"

She sighed, "Mona's. Some guy wanted to meet her."

"A guy?"

"Jealous?"

"As hell."

"Good, you should be. Go fix it." He grumbled under his breath at Steph, grateful and annoyed at her interference at the same time.

Mona's was crammed asses and elbows as the early evening crowd filled the 100 person maximum capacity building. People lined the bar stools, standing and sitting, and all the booths were full. One booth stood out, not necessarily the booth, but the people sitting in it.

She was sitting with a guy, who was slouching in the booth, his shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes. She was looking uncomfortable, shirking away from a hand he could see sliding up her leg.

He walked quickly to the booth, quietly sitting in the booth seat next to Rory. She leaned into him, waiting for him to protect her from this guy.

"Logan Huntzberger," he said, holding his hand out to the guy.

He glared at Logan and ignored his outstretched hand. "Rory, can you tell this guy to leave?"

"No," she mumbled.

"What do you mean no?"

Logan cut in, "Look, I know I'm cutting in your time of feeling her up, but hey, I really need to talk to her.

Rory looked at him sharply, her eyes shooting daggers at him. He met her eyes briefly, a look of concern flashing briefly in them, before flickering his cold gaze back to the guy in front of him.

"Dean, you should leave," Rory said as her back pressed up against the cold brick wall.

"I'm thinking he should leave. I need to talk to you." Logan stood up, making Dean stand up with him.

"Hey, man, she said to leave."

At that moment Dean tackled him, sending them both to the floor. A few punches and two security guards later, Rory was dragging Logan out of the restaurant while the police shoved Dean the opposite direction.

"What were you thinking?" she exclaimed.

"You mean to tell me I didn't see his hand sliding up your leg?"

"I can take care of myself, Logan. Shit, now I'm late for work."

He rolled his eyes, "God forbid."

She exploded at him. "I did not ask you to follow me and watch over me! I don't need you or your protection which is really you beating the shit out of people I am more than capable of beating up! You have no right to be mad at me. So, either shut up and let me get ice or go take care of your fucking eye on your own."

He looked down; she was right. She was more than capable than taking care of herself.

She sighed, looking around at the busy streets, crowded with vendors and people out for dinner or an evening walk, "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean for it to sound like…that."

They walked through the back doors of The Dragonfly, through the kitchen, where she motioned for him to sit down while she got a bag of ice for his rapidly swelling black eye and bleeding lip. She sat in a chair, pulling it out so she was sitting in front of him, holding the bag of ice up to his eye.

"I can do it," he said as he took the bag from her grip.

She nodded, "Okay. I'll see you later."

Shit. They were no more closer than they were before to fixing this.

He groaned, dropping both his head and the bag of ice on the table, not even wincing when his face made contact with the wood.


	10. Untitled Breakfasts

**A/N: thank you for the reviews! ah, someone asked me..the big O is omaha...hehe. it makes me laugh...anyways. im in history and my teacher says its like shes talking to herself because no one listens to her. i think its because of the laptops...whatever. anyways, here is chaper ten. **

**chapter ten**

His eye was swollen, he looked like hell, and yet, thoughts about beating the shit out of Dean were far from leaving his head. There were no words to describe the feeling at the pit of his stomach when he saw his gross, clammy hand sliding up her thigh in that booth.

He smirked at the memory of getting in more punches than Dean did, and frowned at the desire to pulverize the beanstalk. His frown formed deeper on his face when he thought about how angry she had been. What was she there for anyways? It's not like anything good could have come from that. Girls, he thought, inwardly sighing.

He was laying in bed on a Thursday morning, a little less than two months left before he was set to leave. He had to do something about this, and fast. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on his room door, three raps, and an abrupt stop.

"Logan?" he heard a soft voice say. "Open up, I know you're in there."

He grabbed a white cotton undershirt from the armchair by the window and threw it on, now making him dressed in only that shirt and his boxers, and walked to the door.

There she was, smiling brightly, holding four cups of coffee and a bag of bagels from the corner cafe.

He raised an eyebrow; she wasn't in her white sundress, so she must not have been working. Instead, she was in a pair of fitted jeans and a white tee and her normal white flip flops. Her day off, and here she was, at nine in the morning.

He stepped back to let her in. "What are you doing here?" He rubbed his eyebrows, and tried to wake himself up, instead receiving a cup of coffee as she sat down on the edge of his unmade bed, her legs crossed underneath her. "Isn't it your day off?"

"Mhmm. Which is why I've waited 'til nine. Breakfast?" She raised the brown paper bag full of bagels up in front of him.

He snatched it from her hands and threw it on the bed next to her. She jumped in surprise.

"What are you doing here, Rory?" he repeated.

"I, um," she paused, unable to meet his expectant eyes, "I didn't like how things were left." She unfolded her knees and dangled them off the edge of the bed, leaning forward on her hands. "I'm trying here, Logan. You're not exactly helping."

"What were you doing with him?"

"He said he needed to clear some things up. I figured we'd be in a public place; he wouldn't try anything. I should have known better." She fiddled with the to-go lid on the second cup of coffee she had drunk since she entered his room, so as not to meet his eyes.

He nodded, "Hold on, let me change real quick. She mumbled an okay and he grabbed clothes before going into the bathroom.

He came back moments later in jeans and a black shirt, and he pulled her off the bed. "Let's go get real food."

She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip, "Bagels are real food."

"And you're almost out of coffee."

"Can't argue with that." She nodded and entwined their fingers and tugged them both out the door.

They walked past a working Lorelai in the lobby, who shook her head at their obliviousness and their interlocked hands.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they walked down a different path than they usually took to Mona's or Luna's.

"There's a new place. I just want to check it out. Girls I go out with have yet to be introduced to eating. I know you like to eat."

"Wow, thanks. Way to flatter a girl."

He laughed and ushered her inside the café. "What's it called?" she asked, craning her head out the door to try and see the name, not finding anything.

"It's not named. Finn was talking to me about it last night. He said its really good food, though."

"Huh. I'll be the judge of that." She smirked as she sat at the two-person table by the large glass windows with a view to the outside streets.

"Understandable. Can't underestimate a Gilmore girl's eating."

"Damn straight."

She smiled at him from over the open menu she held in her hands, and he leaned back in his chair, staring at her intently.

"What sort of things did he need to clear up?"

"Um, hewantedtogetbacktogether."

"I'm sorry?"

"He wanted to get back together."

"And he figured he'd do this by feeling you up?"

"Maybe? It didn't really work. I told him it was over, and if he was still holding on after six months, tough shit."

He nodded in his approval, "Nice."

"It's not over though. He'll be back. Your interruption messed it all up. You ruined my exit, too."

"Damn. You and your exits."

"They're great, aren't they?"

He smirked, shaking his head as he perused the menu. "Are you ready to order?" a young waitress asked while eying Logan up and down in his cheap plastic chair.

"Yep," Rory said, raising her eyebrow at Logan at the girl's forwardness towards him.

"You go first, honey," he insisted, silently asking her to play along.

"Aw, thanks, babe. I'll just have the waffles with whip cream and chocolate sprinkles on the top," she said, and she smiled brightly at the waitress, whose name tag read Monica.

She turned to Logan expectantly, a slight frown on her features, "I'll try the omelet."

They handed her their menus as she walked away.

"Well, she seemed happy."

He gave Rory a pointed stare. "Why do you find pleasure in seeing me uncomfortable when girls check me out?"

She snorted in a very unladylike way, "Like you're ever uncomfortable under a girl's gaze. You live for it."

"I resent that."

A roll of the eyes and a shake of the head.

"How about her?" he asked, pointing to another brunette towards the back.

"She's brunette," Rory pointed out.

"You're a brunette."

"Yes, but you're not thinking about bedding me. Or if you are, please stop. Things don't have to be weird again."

He smirked, oh, if only she knew what he was thinking. Finally, they were back to their old ways; breakfast and useless banter. Picking out future boyfriends and girlfriends for each other instead of realizing that they were really meant for each other.

They couldn't have been happier.

"Stop smirking," she told him, laughing as she ate her waffles.

He obliged, eating his omelet. "What are you doing today?"

"Well, my mission is complete. So, now I might go shopping or just stay home and read."

"I was only a little thing to get done with and then go home?"

She only smiled at him, and she took a sip of her coffee. She groaned when she heard her phone vibrating against her hardcover novel stashed in her purse, already knowing who the caller was.

"Paris, I told you, I'm not coming home for that."

"Rory, do you always answer your phone like that?" Emily Gilmore asked, her voice reprimanding.

Rory bit back a cough and held the phone away from her ear, staring at it incredulously. "Grandma?"

"And what do you mean that you're not coming back for that? Your presence is not only required, but requested."

"I just don't think I'll be able to get on a plane by the sixth. Then school starts the twenty-seventh; I'd just prefer to be at home."

"Well, honey, you would be home. Hartford is your home. Besides, I've already talked to your mother."

"No, it's not. Look, I'm out to breakfast and I'm being rude. I'll see what I can do. Bye, Grandma." She snapped her phone shut and threw it in her purse that was lying on the floor next to the leg of the table.

"Wow, someone pissed you off."

She glared at him over her coffee cup which was held to her lips. "They want me to go back for some function. _You are the granddaughter of the Gilmore's and Hayden's,_" she mimicked her grandmother's high-pitched society voice. "Shove it up my ass. I didn't want it."

Okay, being one thing, but a Hayden, too? Straub Hayden, one of Connecticut's, hell, the east coast's best supreme justice was her grandfather. And Richard Gilmore, the insurance man, head of Gilmore Insurance. She was the law _and_ the money.

"Holy shit," he mumbled out loud as these thoughts bounced around inside his head.

"What?" she asked, distracted by skaters going by the window.

"You are a Gilmore and a Hayden?" he asked, clarifying.

She turned to him, "Well, yeah. My father is Straub and Francine's son, and my mom is Richard and Emily's daughter, making me their grandchild. Although, I haven't seen Dad for a few years; he and Mom never married so he hasn't really been around at all, just a few visits here and there. And then Mom and I moved here, so we haven't been up to Hartford that much since."

He smirked at her encyclopedia answer that could have been a simple yes or no response.

She leaned back her chair, tipping it on the back two legs and twirling her coffee mug around by the handle.

"Done?" he asked.

"Yep. I think Finn was right. They do have very good food here," she said, smiling.

"He was probably drunk. That's when he has his moments of clarity."

"Well, he was right, drunk or not."

"Come on, let's go." He placed some money on the table, underneath the ketchup bottle, and guided her out of the café, his hand pressed at the small of her back.

As they walked out the door, his hand slid farther around her waist, his hand resting on her hip just so, guiding them down the sidewalk.

A brunette guy passed by, smiling and titling his head at Rory, who smiled brightly back at him. When she turned to Logan he was glaring at the guy's retreating back.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Do you know what I decided?"

"No, what?"

"I don't think I like seeing you with other guys."

She placed her hands on both of his cheeks, "Poor baby."

"I know; it's sad, isn't it?"

She smiled up at him, "I wouldn't worry about it too much."


	11. Summer Nights

**A/N: Ah! thank you thank you for the reviews! they made me really happy in all this stress. im also really really sorry for the delay in this. i had a temporary writers block, but im happy to say, i think its been overcome. :-) and good news..only two more finals! yay! granted, i failed math and chemistry, i can honestly say the scantrons looked very pretty when i was done. hehe anyways. some may not like where this ended? im not sure...let me know. enjoy and review. **

**chapter eleven**

"Talk to mommy!" Lorelai bounced up and down on Rory's bed the next morning like a little kid on Christmas.

"Mom," the bundled up form hiding underneath the covers groaned.

"You've been busy! I've hardly seen you! My little girl all grown up," she sighed, wiping her eyes for fake tears.

"Drama queen!" Rory exclaimed after she threw her down comforter off her body and sat up, leaning against the headboard.

"So, what's been going on?" She handed her daughter a cup of coffee, both of their elixirs, and sat cross legged in front of her eighteen year old.

"Nothing much. Working, as usual. Hanging out with people."

"You mean Logan?" Lorelai asked, well aware of their behavior towards each other. Though she had only met him a couple times, she already liked him better than she liked Dean throughout their long, drawn-out relationship.

She could see it in the way he held her hand when they were going somewhere, idly, obliviously, walking by the front desk where she was working.

She could see it by the way he pressed his hand in the small of her back, a small sign of protection towards her, knowing her past with guys.

She could see it in the way he slung his arm over her shoulders when they were talking, joking, kidding, laughing, whatever; his own way of showing her that he cares, and he's actually there.

She watched as her daughter ducked her head and blushed, "Yeah."

"Aw, babe. I know you like him."

"What? No, I don't. He's arrogant, egotistical, makes me so angry I want to rip off his arms, and he's a player." She ticked off these less-than-stellar qualities off on her fingers. "Believe me, I don't like him."

"Rory, you guys spend every waking hour that you're not working together. He stares at you in that creepy-but-still-adorable way because it's like you're so amazing. Which you are, because let's face it, you're my daughter."

"Mom!"'

Lorelai stopped her ramble, "Huh, oh yeah." She stood up off the bed, smoothing her hands over her dress pants. "I have to go, babe; big meeting with island hot-shots." She pushed hair away from her daughter's head and kissed her temple. "You like him."

Rory sighed, "I do, don't I?"

"Oh, and I need to talk to you about something later. We'll do it tomorrow, okay?"

Rory nodded from her place, setting her coffee cup on the nightstand next to her bed.

Lorelai smiled and walked out of the room, happy she had done her job as a mother. Rory slid back underneath her covers, groaning loudly at this new discovery.

-------------

She walked slowly down the Floor Five and stood in front of his hotel room door. She hadn't seen any of the three boys that morning, and hope that he was in here, alone preferably, just to make this easier.

She lifted her hand and got ready to knock, only hesitating slightly before rapping her knuckles on the door. She jumped when she heard a crash and knew her eyes were wide with surprise when Logan pulled the door open.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi. Should I come back later?"

"No," he said immediately. "Sorry, just a little distracted this morning. Come in." He stepped back to let her slide past him.

He looked at her, this morning in a strapless black sundress. "Why black?"

"Huh?" She looked down at her dress. "Oh, um, big execs here today. This is supposedly more professional." She rolled her eyes and he laughed.

She looked around the room and saw the cheap plastic decorative vase full of fake flowers shattered in pieces on the carpet floor, the fake carnations spread around the shards, almost in an organized fashion. She saw his suitcase on the bed, open, half-packed, and raised he eyebrow at him. "Living out of a suitcase? Doesn't seem very blue-blooded to me."

He ran his hands through his hair uncomfortably, a nervous habit she noticed he had, "I'm going back."

"Back," she repeated for clarification.

"Yeah, back. Hartford."

She rocked back on her heels and looked past him to the bathroom, the door ajar and the light on. "Well, I'll just let you get back to doing…whatever you were doing."

He reached out to grab her arm, "I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning. Could you get off work?"

"I'll need to replace that vase first."

"Let the maids do it," he said, pulling her closer to him, so close she could smell the soap he used blended with the cologne.

"No, I used to be a maid. It's not fun to have to clean up other people's shit, Logan. It'll take five minutes. What did you do to it, anyways?"

"I was on the phone with my father," he said, as if that explained everything.

"And?" she pressed.

"And…he got on my nerves." He let her go and ran another hand through his hair, making it stand up on all ends. "I have to go back for a stupid party for my father's office. Since I'm going to be taking it over, he thinks it's a good time to get to know the business. As if he hasn't been shoving it down my throat since I was three."

He sounded so bitter, angry, at his father. She took a step back, "I'm sorry. I'm going to go get the vase." She left quickly and he sighed.

He didn't want to leave. He was so close to having her for himself. But then when school started, then what? He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands.

She came back a few minutes later and he had gone back to searching for the things he had used in the first month of his stay so he wasn't running around at midnight trying to find everything.

She picked up the faux-flowers and placed them in the cream colored vase and set them back on the table where they were, and she finished picking up the broken shards of plastic that Logan had shattered.

"Next time," she grumbled as she scraped pieces of plastic into her hand, "Throw something not so breakable."

"Get up," he said concerned, pulling on her wrists. "You'll cut yourself." He turned her hand over above the trashcan to let the pieces hit the bottom.

"Let's go get food," he said as they left his room.

--------------

They went to Luna's for nostalgic reasons, and when they returned it had finally sunk in to her that he was leaving. She may never see him again.

"We may never see each other again," she told him, voicing her thoughts aloud. They were sitting in his hotel room; he had needed to finish packing, but didn't want to leave her. His suitcase was on the floor at the end of the bed, and she was sitting on the floor against the wall, while he was underneath the window, a breeze coming through the open window.

"Don't say that. Of course we will. Who else will piss you off like I can?"

She smiled at him. He was trying to remain optimistic; they both knew they probably wouldn't see one another again. It was just a summer thing, a fling, if that.

She crawled over to where he was sitting and sat next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. She picked up his hand and entwined both of their hands together, observing them carefully.

"You know I didn't hate you, right? Not ever. Well, in the beginning, yes. But not after that."

He smirked in the darkness, "Yes, I knew that."

"Good." They simply sat there, hands intertwined, shoulders pressed together, her head on his shoulder, the moonlight shining through.

After about an hour of sitting with him she slowly stood, "I should go."

"Wait." He stood with her and pulled her close to him in an embrace. "Maybe I'll come back next year."

She smiled and brushed her lips to his softly, barely touching, and he pulled her closer to kiss her deeply, his arm sliding around her waist and up to her back to hold her to him. He walked her back to where she was pressed against the wall, and she was holding the fabric of his shirt bunched in her fist. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. She nodded slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Another nod. "Just for tonight," she whispered. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his polo and his hand trailed across the bare skin above the fabric of her dress, before his fingers found the zipper to the black sundress.

He turned them around and pulled them back to his bed, where tonight they were just themselves. Not a heirs to billion dollar fortunes. Not girls who had been hurt by so many in the past.

Just teenage lovers between the sheets.


	12. Goodbye Love

**A/N: ah! thank you so so much for the reviews! now, i noticed some consistent confusion (hehe, that made me laugh). anyways, i hope it gets cleared up here..if not, ask away. umm...yeah. so leave me lots of reviews because i have the night from hell ahead...going to see just my luck (dear god, what has my life become) and going to an end of school year party (i like being antisocial, thankyouverymuch) because FINALS ARE DONEE! whee. okay. sorry. extra ranting there. soo..just enjoy and review so i can be somewhat happy when i get home later. :-) **

**chapter twelve **

He awoke with a weight on his chest. When he looked down at said weight, he smiled, seeing the brunette hair, opposed to the usual blonde, highlighted locks he was used to. Of course, more often than not, he left too early in the night to actually wake up with the girl he happened to be with that time. But he couldn't do that, not to her.

He craned his neck to look at the clock, and it read 7:15. He had to leave in twenty minutes if he wanted to make his 8:00 flight back to Hartford.

The problem: he didn't want to leave this perfect picture. Here it was, the moment of perfection he had always heard of, never experienced. The sun was shining through the open window, and here she was, laying half on him, her steady breathing hot on his neck, and all he could do was pull her closer.

Ten minutes later and they were still lying like that. He knew better than to wake her up, but at the same time, didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. He didn't know anything about her future plans, other than her coming home later. Nothing about school or traveling. It was a topic they had never breached, always avoided.

It involved thinking about the future, about something other than this island of perfection, of dreams.

He slid out from underneath her, rubbing his hand up and down her bare back, sliding the sheet she had drawn up over her back down to the small of her back, revealing her porcelain skin. He kissed her bare shoulder, trailing kisses to her mouth, where she barely responded, still asleep. He kissed her once more before climbing out of the bed, careful not to disrupt her sleep.

He got ready in record time, all in a hurry for what? To leave here? This? He sighed at her still sleeping form in the bed, and reached to place a kiss on her head, and kissed her one more time. "Goodbye, Rory Gilmore."

With that, he grabbed his bags and walked out of the hotel room, and out of the Dragonfly, looking back only once when he found the open window of the room where the girl he had fallen in love with was still sleeping.

---------------

When Rory woke two hours later, she woke to an empty bed. She wrapped the off-white sheet around her body and looked around the room. His stuff was gone. More importantly, _he_ was gone. She bit back a cry, and saw her dress on the floor where he had let it fall the night before, less than twelve hours ago.

She grabbed it off the floor, along with her undergarments and went into the bathroom. She pulled on her clothes, wrenching the dress up to be zipped in her efforts not to cry. What did she care if he left? She didn't like him, right? Oh, wait, she thought, we decided yesterday I did.

Well, shit.

One tear fell and she wiped it away roughly. She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it out and splashed cold water on her face. She slid her feet into the black flip flops she had left by the door when they had first arrived, and took the stairs up to the sixth floor.

The first thing she noticed when she reached their living room was Steph, sitting on the couch with a box of Kleenex. Lorelai was comforting her, an arm wrapped around her, and they both looked up when they heard the door close, and Lorelai sighed when she saw Rory's tearstained face.

"Oh, babe. I'm sorry."

Rory shrugged off her mother's arm and stood in her spot, her feet rooted to the ground. "Did all three of them leave?" she asked.

Lorelai nodded. "I'm sad, too; they were growing on me."

"I'll be in my room," Rory told them, giving Steph an apologetic face, knowing how upset she must be over Colin.

She shut her door softly and leaned against it. She stepped away when she heard a soft rapping on the door and let her mother in.

"You got home late, or should I say early."

"I don't want to talk about."

"Rory, I wouldn't push me about this."

Rory sat on her bed, "What do you want me to tell you, Mom?"

"What happened?"

She bit her lip and looked down. "Oh, Rory. Tell me you didn't."

"You want me to lie to you?"

"Were you safe at least?"

She looked at her mom as if she were an idiot. "What do you think? Of course we were."

Lorelai sighed and wrapped her arms around her daughter. "I'm sorry. Was he there when you left?"

She shook her head numbly and her mother stroked her hair. "Oh, baby, you'll be okay."

"I think I may have loved him, Mom. Now what?"

Lorelai pulled away in shock. She came to that conclusion so fast? She knew it was the truth, but wasn't it only yesterday that she was deciding that she liked the guy? Now, she not only slept with him, but confessed her love for him.

"Did he say goodbye?"

"Um, well, I sort of remember him kissing me goodbye, but I was still asleep," she confessed, twisting her dress in her hands.

"It'll get better, babe."

"I hope so. Can I sleep now?"

"Tired?" Her mom winked at her only to get a glare in response. "Right, too early for that. Can you work tonight, maybe take your mind off of it? Especially since you took off yesterday?"

"Sure." She lied down and Lorelai pulled her blankets up over her, and she left the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

--------------

"Ah, welcome home, mates," Finn exclaimed as they got off the private jet. He only received a glare from Colin and blank stare from Logan.

"Some kids depressed about their women?"

"She's not my woman," Logan said.

"Yes," Colin responded. Finn shook his head at both of them, and then pointed at Logan.

"So you just sleep with any girl that you actually, like, wait, love, and then leave her, and you have the balls to not call her your woman."

Logan cringed, "Well, see, I left before we could establish that."

Wrong answer. It got a slap upside the head and many a curse word from Finn.

"Idiots, the lot of you. I don't know why I'm even friends with you."

"Well, that's always nice to hear, Finn," Logan said as the climbed into the Huntzberger company limo off the private air strip.

"Don't I know it," he grumbled.

Finn still looked around confused at the two of his friends. "Why didn't you tell her, you dumbass!" he finally exclaimed.

"I was supposed to have more time!" Logan yelled at him.

Logan leaned his head on the headrest, closing his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could still see her lying in bed, laughing as he recounted tales from Finn, Colin, and his summer adventures that he told her in the middle of the previous night.

"Ah, he's a little depressed with out his Rory Gilmore, right Huntz?" Finn asked as he uncorked a bottle of wine.

"Leave it alone, Finn."

"No! Imagine my shock when I see that Logan Huntzberger, the playboy of them all, had fallen in love, head over heels, with a little spitfire brunette who actually put him in his place the first time they met."

"I don't need a recap of our history, Finn. She's better off there."

"Well, my friend, you must not have payed close attention to her future plans then. Had you two looked outside your own little world you would have known that you'll be seeing each other much sooner than you'd think."

Logan sighed, "What are you talking about?"

"It seems your Rory got accepted to all Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. Just guess which one she chose."

"For the sake of my sanity, please tell me Yale."

"You were a smart kid for a reason."

"How do you know this?"

"Just because Rory wouldn't let me break into the bar doesn't mean Lorelai didn't, mate. She and I became friends."

Logan leaned back in his seat, not noticing that he had leaned forward in anticipation of what Finn was about to tell him.

"What about Steph?" Colin asked from the seat next to him.

Finn began talking to Colin while Logan stared out the window.

Rory had breezed into his life, causing a monsoon. It puzzled him, to say the least, to this day how she actually did this. Finn was right; he had been the biggest playboy at boarding school. And now, with one look into these shimmering blue eyes, he was…changed. He hadn't been properly prepared. Things had changed since then.

He'd be ready. This time, he'd be ready for Rory Gilmore.


	13. Keep the Ball Rolling

**A/N: AH! your reviews made me sooo happy, and coincidentally, the night was a total suckfest. So thank you SO SO much:-) (insert multiple hearts here) anyways, i hope you like this chapter...there should be one more at this ball, and then we will begin yale, i think. so stay tuned and enjoy. oh, and tell me what you think. :) enjoy and review. **

**chapter thirteen **

_one month later_

"I feel disgusting," Rory said as she walked through the airport. "Plane rides have that affect on me," she told her mother.

"Yeah? So does eating dinner with my mother. God, I can't believe she made us come back nearly three weeks before you're even supposed to be at school."

"Mom, it's the annual DAR masquerade ball! Now, what kind of offspring would we be if we didn't go?" Rory asked in a false reprimanding voice.

It had been one month to the day since she had sworn off Logan in her heart, mind, and as much as she hated to say it, body. Never again, she had told herself more than once since his mystery departure.

She hadn't dated anyone, worked more than ever, and hung out with Steph and Lane as much as she could, as not to listen to the voice in her head telling her that something was wrong with this supposedly perfect image of her life.

Every now and then, okay, big lie, every minute she had a fleeting thought of if he ever thought of her. She would kill to be in his brain for one second, to know if he ever remembered what they had done, how much their relationship was in the outs at this point, practically nonexistent.

She had overheard her mother talking to Steph one afternoon, the conversation she heard leading to her now-constant bitterness to the boy who had left her behind. They tried to keep it a secret, but outside the swinging kitchen doors, she had heard the name "Logan" and paused outside to hear the conversation. More like eavesdrop. She caught only the end; Colin had called for Steph, and wondered if Rory was as depressed as Logan was.

Why didn't he just call himself? Apparently, if Colin could find the number, Logan was more than able to.

Now, looking for Paris Gellar to pick them up from Hartford International Airport, she was dreading this ball.

"I think we'd do everyone a favor by not going. I may end up killing someone," Lorelai grumbled.

"I'll post bail for you."

"You're such a good daughter. Oh, look! There she is!" Lorelai dropped her suitcase and pointed at the sandy-haired blonde who was sitting in one of those cheap plastic airport seats, waiting for her friend and mother to arrive.

"Paris!" Rory called out. The girl looked up and smiled and ambled over to the two.

Rory looked around confused. "What?" Paris asked her.

"Where's Tristan? Aren't you two pretty much attached?"

"We decided it's safer to be friends. He got scared of me when there was more than once that I wanted to take his head off."

"Ah, young love," Lorelai said wistfully.

"Can we go now? I feel like I need to go get five hepatitis shots from just sitting in this place." Paris tapped her foot impatiently.

"It's good to know things never change," Rory stated.

"Steph's coming later?" Rory nodded. She had been elated when she found out that her best friend had been keeping the secret that she too was returning home to go to school at Yale.

For right now, she was just happy to be off the plane. The sooner this ball ended, the sooner she could get home, and back to her five hundred mile radius limit of avoidance of a certain Mr. Logan Huntzberger.

------------

"Logan, we're going to be more than fashionably late," Finn said, irritated. It had been a few hours since he had a drink and he was getting eager to arrive at the Greenburg Manor where the masquerade ball was being held.

It was demanded by all three of the boys' mothers to attend this social function. After all, there would be more than enough potential prospects for the future wives of the heirs of the families.

"I'm coming. This is so stupid. Why do we even have to go?"

"Just think of this way, mate, maybe you'll meet many a beautiful girl to go home with tonight, making you forget all about the real reason why you're there."

"Finn, I don't want to go home with multiple girls."

"Ah, yes, just Rory."

"Don't say her name. I already told you that."

They grabbed Colin on the way out of their apartment door and walked to the SUV that Colin was driving.

Logan sighed as he looked at the large castle-like structure the event was being held at. "Be happy, mate," Finn told him as they climbed out of the car. "Booze and women tonight!"

Logan laughed as they walked up the fancy drive to the double wooden doors that were wide open for people to enter the wonderland that the DAR women had slaved over.

-----------

"It's official," Rory said, walking over to the table Paris and Steph were sitting at. "The punch is spiked."

She plopped down in the chair, the tulle material of her white dress crunching underneath the impact of her small body hitting the chair. She adjusted the jeweled mask she had on her eyes and sighed. "This sucks."

"Hear hear!" Steph chimed, raising her champagne flute.

"Hartford elite sucks."

"Hear hear!" Paris said, following suit of Steph in raising her drink.

"I'm going to find Mom," Rory told her friends as she stood up, leaving her empty glass on the table, adding an image of flaw to the perfect table setting. She smiled, satisfied at her little thought of this and walked away.

"Mom! Oh, thank God." Rory stood by her mother in the large ballroom. Lorelai was dressed in a simple a-line cut red dress, as opposed to Rory's fancy ball gown that resembled a wedding dress.

"Good God, girl, where have you been? You left Mommy all by herself. I now have four secret lovers, Antonio, Fernandez, Roberto, and another one who didn't say his name."

"They're all foreign."

"Americans are boring. It's our completely corrupt society and our need to trash every other culture."

"Sounds good to me. Did you find me one?"

"Um, well, they all loved me, honey," Lorelai said, fanning her face dramatically.

Rory sighed, "Oh well."

"Rory!" Emily Gilmore called out, dragging Richard behind her, followed closely by another pair of parents. All of their masks were on the tops of their heads so they could talk to each other without the awkwardness of maybe not being the right person.

"Oh, no. Turn, run, Rory! Before it's too late to save yourself!" Lorelai whispered before her mother was in earshot.

"Take off your mask, dear."

"Why?" Rory asked puzzled, her head cocked to one side.

"Please? Do it for your old grandmother."

Rory rolled her eyes playfully and lifted her mask to her hair, letting it rest. "Let me introduce you to the Huntzbergers," Emily said, standing aside so she could properly set her eyes on the three Huntzbergers. "This is Mitchum, Shira, and Logan. Logan will be attending Yale with you in the fall," her grandmother told her, raising her eyebrow suggestively.

"Logan?"

Rory and Logan stared at each other speechless, Rory with wide eyes and Logan a confused stare, eyebrows scrunched together. Rory pulled her mask back to down to her eyes and gathered her skirt in her fists, and she walked away from both the Gilmore and the Huntzberger families without another word.

-----------

Logan sighed when he saw his mother and father approach him. "Logan," she said through gritted teeth, "Where have you been?"

"We got a little stuck in traffic." A normal, overused excuse for him.

"You should have thought of that," she said, smiling falsely at an important judge and his wife as they passed.

"I'm sorry, Mother."

She smiled slightly again, adjusting the tie of his tux. "We have to make the rounds; there are many people here tonight you need to meet. And since you were late, no complaining."

His mother had always been a little more understanding than his father. While Shira told him all of this, Mitchum stood beside his wife, mumbling under his breath that this was how the new owner of Huntzberger Media would act? He needed to pull himself together, according to Mitchum.

"Come on; Mitchum, can you do that later? When we aren't around all of Hartford's nosiest bitches who would spread it around like wildfire?" Shira looked expectantly at her husband and he offered her his arm. He didn't bother telling her that _she_ was one of the nosiest bitches in Hartford.

So Logan trailed after his parents as they talked with family after family; statesmen, Huntzberger Media stock owners, insurance men. More important insurance man, Richard Gilmore.

Logan's head jerked up when he saw Emily Gilmore call out the name Rory. She couldn't be here could she? She had plagued his thoughts, nearly ruining this past month. The only thing getting him by was the fact that he was bound to run into her at Yale in the coming three weeks.

He watched carefully as a young woman pulled herself away from an older looking one, hard to tell with the masks and pulled her own glittery white one up on her head.

He could tell those eyes anywhere. It was her.

"Logan?" His name on her lips scared him once again, just like it had when he first met her.

She stood speechless in front of him, and he her. He looked around nervously after he saw her walk away, excused himself abruptly from his parents, and followed her to where the crowd had seemed to swallow her whole on the dance floor.


	14. The Winner Took It All

**A/N: thank you for the reviews. almost 200! im really excited:-) so, this is a shorter one. i think the next one will be yale, including some new boys for rory (making a jealous logan) and maybe some new characters or some old ones popping up? ideas are welcome and i may try to work them in. :-) enjoy and review. **

**chapter fourteen**

She smiled as she ran her fingertips along the worn spines that lined the bookshelves of the room. She had successfully made her escape from the crowd; the stealthy move of diving into the mass of people dancing with their other that has never ceased to help her escape from someone.

The library of Greenburg Manor was impressive, she had to admit. She didn't know why she hadn't come here in the first place, avoiding the whole confrontation all together. It was official; she had not been ready to see him again.

She leaned back against the sturdy bookshelf, and sighed. She could still feel his lips trailed down her jaw, past her collar, paving paths down to her shoulder. The way his soft blonde locks felt being clenched in her grasp, her attempt to cling to reality that night. The way he had ran his hands through her sleek brunette hair before he had pulled her back up to him for him to show her with actions – because they could tell the truth so much better for him – how much he loved her.

She jumped when she heard the solid oak door creak open, one she had made the mistake of leaving ajar.

The object of her thoughts and her affection, in the flesh, standing before her.

"Sneaky," he began as he closed and locked the door behind him, "I've been looking for you for the past hour. You shouldn't have left."

"You taught me how," she bit back, not even attempting to hide the bitterness in her voice.

He took the steps needed to be standing in front of her while she carefully stepped back, only to feel her back press harder into the shelving of the bookshelves where her strapless gown left skin unveiled.

"I'm sorry," he said. She slapped him across the face, her hand making contact with a loud smack. Twice. _Hard_. He winced at her touch. It wasn't what he expected, though what he thoroughly deserved.

"I don't need your lies," she told him, her voice low, quiet, dangerous. "Just go find a new fuck buddy and leave me alone."

"No, I'm going to talk to you, explain. And I'm going to ask you to hear me out. Please?"

"You've really gone below yourself, haven't you? Begging for a girl's attention." She taunted him, hoping to piss him off, so not to show him what he was really doing to her.

"Rory," he growled. "We could hash this out now and get it over with or wait three weeks when we find out we probably have five classes together."

"B-but," she stuttered. Realization dawned on her. "Oh, Christ. Don't tell me that–"

"Yes, we are both going to Yale. Surely you knew?" It was his turn to taunt her. He felt a tingling in his face where she had slapped him, and he hoped it left a mark, if only for her to have at least an ounce of compunction for what she had done to him, both physically and emotionally.

He gently led her to the leather couches in the middle of the room and sat her down on one, while he sat in an armchair across from her.

"I-uh-this is fricken insane, Logan. And I blame you!" she exclaimed, unable to grasp one single thought that happened to be bouncing around in her head, so she just made a combination of the many.

"Figures," he mumbled. "I told you I was leaving, I told you it was my last night, I asked you if that was what you wanted."

"You could have said goodbye," she cut him off sharply. "And don't say you didn't want to wake me up. You've had no problems doing it before."

"It was different."

She threw up her hands. "Oh, here we go. And next you're going to tell me how I changed your life for the better, you've never met someone like me before," she guessed.

"It's true!"

She laughed, standing up from her spot on the couch, "I can't believe I'm hearing this!" she all but shrieked.

He stood up in front of her and grasped her shoulders, "I…" he attempted before sighing and releasing his grip on her.

"I don't know what it is. I mean, one minute I have five girls trying to get me to go out with me…"

"Are you trying to tell me that you maybe like me? Because I don't think this is the route to go."

He held up a finger to the crease of her lips to make her stop talking. "And then, I fell over right in front of you, and you've been on my mind ever since."

"That was almost three months ago," she whispered.

"My point exactly. If you can tell me that none of what happened meant nothing to you, and that you will feel nothing when I kiss you again, then I will leave you alone."

He pressed his lips to hers, and she smiled. _Smiled_. He was indescribably happy at that moment. She pulled back, a frown etched in her features and with her hands resting on his upper arms, shoved him away roughly from her.

He frowned at her. "Say the word and I'm gone."

She bit her lip, shook her head. "This isn't possible. It's only been three months! This doesn't happen in three months. You only see that in movies, you know, John Cusack, Kate Beckinsale sort of picture. And even then, it's completely stretched out! And John Cusack was just," she sighed, "so perfect for her. The point is, it's not supposed to be like this!"

"I gave you my argument. I told you everything beforehand," he told her, his voice calm, face emotionless. To her, he was usually so much easier to read.

"So now this is my fault? The fact that we slept together and then you left me to wake up in a king-sized bed by myself with _no goodbye_ whatsoever, and I am to blame." She laughed at the stupidity of it all.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. It had crossed his mind what it must have been like for her to wake up alone, but nothing like she had just described oh-so-perfectly to him. He left her in his bed – in his room – to wake the next morning alone, and no one knew better than he that dull, empty feeling at the pit of one's stomach when there was the possibility of being used better than him.

He reached out to her, "I'm sorry."

"Don't lie to me. And don't touch me. Stay away from me. Just, God, just stop." She wiped at tears that were quickly falling and hurriedly left the room, but not before fumbling with the lock with her shaking hands, not before he could see the look of complete and utter defeat on her face, even though she had just won.

He sighed and sank down in the couch. Their little reunion was nothing like he had hoped. Nothing. While sure, he didn't expect her to welcome him with open arms, but he had hoped he could show her the light of where he was coming from.

In the end, as always, she had won.

She was right; he never had problems waking her up before. What was so different about that morning?

Oh, right, he was leaving her behind. Her being the one girl he had fallen in love with so unexpectedly. The one who was now not speaking to him, and God knows what will happen at Yale.

He really should have told her the truth.


	15. Picture Perfect

**A/N: thanks for reviews! sorry this took a few days, i had some major problems writing it. i dont especially liked where i left off, and i hope that the next chapter will have the new guys for rory in it. this is a ROGAN so they will end up together..eventually. :) there was some confusion, so just clearing that up. and...lets see, i think thats it. now i get to go to my brothers graduation open house thingy. whee... enjoy and review.  
**

**chapter fifteen**

Her eyes fluttered open as the lightening flashed through the cheap, university curtains. For what they paid for the dorm four-person suite, she thought, they should at least give us decent curtains.

It was only her second night staying in the dorms at Yale. She had signed up for her roommates as Paris, Steph, and another girl named Rosemary.

She stared at the large red letters on her clock that taunted her with the numbers 2:34. She groaned and turned over, listening to the rain that was falling down in a late summer storm.

She turned over again and laid flat on her back, her eyes glued to the ceiling.

The things she had said to him were almost unforgivable. Her leaving the room, inexcusable. He had been right; he did tell her everything. But didn't she make a point? He left her there before she could tell him, assuming it was the best for both of them.

She had only been at the school two days, and she had yet to see him. She was mostly glad; it was already a culture shock. Coming from an island to a landlocked elite suburb wasn't exactly her idea of decreasing stress.

Thankfully, in a sort of fairytale way, the big execs who had visited the inn were there to purchase it. Lorelai hadn't wanted to be stuck with an ocean separating her and her best friend for the next four years, and instead, found an inn about forty five minutes away in their old hometown of Stars Hollow.

It was almost as if things were back to the way they were.

She turned back over to look at her clock who was mocking her. It surely had to be laughing at her and her current state of insomnia. 2:35. Her gaze shifted to the wooden picture frame she had just placed there four hours ago before she went to bed.

It was of her, Steph, Logan, and Colin; the last day they were together. The day the vase had broken, the day he had told her his news, the twenty-four hours that they both hated and loved with a passion because of the events that had taken place.

They were sitting at Luna's, where they had all agreed to meet to eat. Rory and Steph had to beg, beg, and _beg_ them to be allowed to take the picture, and when they agreed, Rory had jumped in Logan's lap while Steph and Colin looked sickeningly sweet with their arms wrapped around each other. Rory's arm was outstretched, holding the camera, and at the time the flash went off, he had told her a joke, making her start laughing, and he was smiling next to her, staring at her with his head turned sideways at her. Both guys refused to retake the picture so after a heated argument, two cold shoulders and an eventual makeup, this was the product.

She smiled at the memory, and her eyes shot to the window when the lightning flashed, followed closely by thunder.

She never liked storms. Logan knew this. One time when she had to work late, he had sat with her in the lobby while it raged on outside, keeping her distracted. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. A lot.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. And it most definitely was not supposed to hurt this much.

-------------

Similarly, Logan lay awake as thunder crashed outside. He had been up for about an hour, and his brain was working overtime.

Was there someone else for her? Did she regret anything she said? Did she mean anything she said? Where was she? Was she okay during the storm?

He knew she hated them.

His eyes wandered from the ceiling to the clock on his nightstand, and furthermore, to a piece of paper folded neatly underneath, a picture printed off of Colin's computer.

He lifted his clock carefully and pulled it out from underneath. He unfolded it, its edges worn with the consistency of his unfolding, but the picture remained vivid and true. It was of him, Colin, Rory and Steph at Luna's the day before he had left her behind. She had pulled on his hand, poked his arm, and puppy-dog eyed him until he gave in to let her take their picture. She all but jumped in his lap, his arm wrapped around her waist so she didn't topple over. Steph and Colin were in the seat next to them, oblivious to the other pair. Logan had told her the fat penguin joke to make her laugh – that was how he wanted to remember her that day.

_"Fat penguins," he said as she adjusted the settings on the digital camera. _

_"What?" she smiled as she held out her arm to bring the four of them into view of the lens. _

_"Just trying to break the ice," he told her as he watched her finger press down on the button and she started laughing at the stupidity of the joke. _

_He didn't let her retake the picture. _

Steph had sent Colin the picture about a week ago, but Logan had just seen it; it was Colin's desktop on his computer, and he made him print him off one.

He sighed as he rolled back over.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

----------

She groaned when the alarm clock went off only three hours after she had fallen asleep at six. The storm had continued for the next hour and a half, her thoughts wandering along with it.

Now, as she dragged her tired body out of bed and glanced out the window, the rain was still falling steadily.

"Good morning sunshine," Paris said sarcastically as Rory emerged from her room twenty minutes later, showered and dressed.

"Coffee," she mumbled.

Paris grimaced, "The machine broke. There's a stand outside. Just goes to show how manipulative America is that we have multiple coffee stands on campus."

"Can it, Paris," Rory said as she grabbed her books for her first day of classes and her purse.

She walked outside and quickly walked to the coffee stand and stood in the shelter of the umbrella from the rain. She ordered her large, black coffee and walked to a nearby café that was about a block off campus that she had seen the day before when she moved in.

She took a seat in one of the squeaky plastic, aqua-marine colored booths, and when the waiter came, she ordered another coffee and muffin, and finally, resorted to pulling a book out of her purse.

She was immersed in her reading until a loud Australian accent caught her attention. Finn! He was another thing she had missed along with Logan. His friends. She pulled her book up in front of her face hurriedly, but not soon enough. Sliding in the seat across from her was Finn and Colin.

"Hey, guys…" she said slowly, folding the corner of the page she was on.

"Love! How have you been?" Finn asked excitedly, not at all surprised to see her there, sitting across from him, in New Haven, Connecticut.

"Um, fine. What are you two doing here?"

"Well, Logan wasn't awake yet and we were hungry so we left him there," Finn said nonchalantly, throwing out the name so casually as if it won't cause an earthquake effect to her emotions.

"Oh." She dropped her gaze to the ceramic tiled table, idly tracing her fingers through the grout and around the perfect squares.

She lifted her eyes when she heard a so familiar voice breaking through her thoughts, "Hey, thanks for waking me up, Finn. The only way I knew where you were was because of that girl you saw here," he stopped as he saw who his two friends were sitting with and let out a deep breath, "hey, Ror."

She nodded her head in acknowledgment, "Logan."

Colin and Finn watched the two expectantly, obviously waiting for either a huge makeup scent or a dramatic fight to just erupt.

"Can I?" he pointed to the spot next to her and she slid over to the wall.

"Sure, no reason why friends can't have breakfast together." He inwardly cringed at her statement. _Friends_. They were back to that. Maybe, he had no idea.

He simply smiled and plopped down next to her, and he called over the waiter.


	16. Calm During the Storm

**A/N: thanks for the reviews! um..this is a longer one. i was going through to try and remember this one part of the story, and then i got this review and i suddenly felt really bad because it had been like..fifteen chapters and they werent even together yet and it was about the third time something like that had happened and...i hope this is okay. thank you for the review - - fallingforGGguys - - to really make me realize that..and that yes, the last chapters havent been my best...its been a rough few days. yesterday was memorial day and i didnt go to the cemetary to see my mom's grave. i havent been in four years...but i just cant? it hurts. and its just been a suckfest weekend and i have to go to work soon and this is a VERY long authors note so im really sorry, but this is also a longer chapter. :) yay? i tried to write smut..it didnt really work out...i tried though, and i actually posted this chapter with it in there...uh oh. haha tell me what you think. enjoy and review. **

**chapter sixteen**

"The guy's an asshole, Rory!" he exclaimed, his arms flailing about.

"What are you talking about?" she shrieked back at him. "He's your friend!"

"That doesn't mean he's not an asshole!"

"Well, they run with their own crowd, so you must be one too!"

"I'm not ashamed of the fact that I'm trying to protect you."

"I never asked you to protect me in the first place. That's your problem, Logan. You think that I want your help when I am more than capable of taking care of myself. Remember what happened last time you thought you knew what was best for me?"

She took a step back. She had just broken one of their silent, unspoken but agreed on rules.

When: Two months into school, October. Time: 8:00, birthday party for Rory's roommate, Rosemary. Argument: Robert, Rory's date, Logan's 'friend'.

They had established a pretty fucked up friendship all by themselves. This was without the presence of new boys and girls in the mix, throw that in there, and you have one hell of a problem. One that they avoid.

They silently agreed with a look in the other's eyes and a shake of the head not to discuss anything previous. Nothing from that fateful night, nothing from this past summer. Honestly, ignorance was bliss. She didn't want to know what other girls he had screwed that summer. She didn't want to know why he left without saying goodbye. He didn't want to know what Dean had done to her that night in the bar.

Well, okay. She did want to know why; he did want to know what Dean had done, only to kick is ass the next summer. Sometimes, lying is better.

"You're right. I guess I didn't know. Leave it to you to throw that in my face." He turned to the crowd who had stopped to watch them in interest. "Show's over, people. You can all go back to drinking."

Steph looked worried as Rory kept stepping back, people moving out of her way as she made her way to the doorway. She reached out her arm to stop Robert who was going to go after Rory, or so she thought.

"Hey, I'm just going to the bar. That's her problem, not mine." Steph rolled her eyes and told Colin she was leaving.

She exited the door Rory had just left the pub through and stepped out in the cool October night. She glanced to her side and saw Rory leaned up against the brick wall of the building, her arms crossed over her chest for warmth, talking to Logan who was standing in front of her.

She cocked her head to the side in confusion when she saw the two arguing again about something or another, and figured she could tell Rory about Robert later; she and Logan were fighting (surprise, surprise) and she didn't want to get in the middle of it. She didn't really know how they had that perfect relationship they did, when all they ever did was fight.

"I want to know why, Logan," she said sharply.

He sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. "Rory…"

"Fine, it's late, I should get back."

"Wait," he said, finally listening to that nagging voice in his head that never seemed to shut up, but now appeared to be appeased at this decision, "come get coffee with me."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Logan, it's eleven at night. No place would be open."

"I know a place. Just trust me." She raised an eyebrow at his statement, a look which he chose to ignore, and instead offered her his hand. She hesitated momentarily before uncrossing her arms and placing hers carefully in his. She lifted them up, like she had those months before, and looked once again at the picture of their perfectly entwined hands she had memorized before.

He watched her eyes travel over their hands together; his darker, larger, more worn, hers delicate, fair, tiny, almost enveloped completely in his.

She shrugged her shoulders unnecessarily, and allowed him to lead her to the small café they had met at for the first time during their time at Yale.

"You could have just told me this was the one."

"Oh, stop whining."

"You don't know I don't like surprises."

"Yes, but wasn't this worth it?"

"Nostalgic, are we?"

"Okay, go inside." He pulled open the door for her and let her walk in first, and she instinctively took a seat in a back booth. The same one they had met at with Colin and Finn.

She ordered a coffee and he a water, and they sat in silence, idly looking around, avoiding glances with each other.

"God, this is ridiculous. We can't even talk to each other anymore," she exclaimed impatiently.

He laughed; the sort of laugh that says "holy crap, this is embarrassing" mixed with "yeah, I can't believe this fucked up place we're either, you're not alone".

"Well, I guess I'll start," he said finally, ripping at the fresh water label on the bottle, tearing it all down until only the sticky goo remained that held the label on in the first place.

She nodded expectantly. "I left without waking you up because," he paused for wording, "I just couldn't wake you up."

She began to protest but he cut her off, "No, I know, what a reason, right? But I mean, what would you have done? This perfect, amazing person is just right next to you, and you have to leave and you won't see them again until God knows when. So, you can either leave with that picture of perfection or run the risk of, knowing you, blowing up at me, ignoring me for what had happened, or just plain indifference towards me."

She remained silent, a first for her. "And being the stupid person I am, I simply chose not to wake you up, mainly you being the most argumentative person I know.

She smiled and traced her finger around the rim of her coffee mug, "You're not stupid."

He laughed, "Still stuck on that, huh?"

She looked at her cell phone for the time and saw it was almost one o'clock. "I really should get back."

He nodded and laid some money on the table, multiple thoughts running through his head. Where did this leave them? What was she to him now? He had to do something before they ended up being just friends, and she became head over heels with Robert. The picture of that guy in his head made him even more motivated.

He walked her to her dorm and stopped her at the doorway. "I really am sorry."

She smiled at him and touched his cheek, "I know."

He took her hand and brought her to him, kissing her right then. After their arguments of the evening, the discussion at the café, it all came rushing back to her. She felt all rational thought leave her as she closed her eyes and sighed into his lips.

He took a step back and broke contact, leaving her puzzled. He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later, okay?"

She nodded dumbly before stepping into her dark, empty suite, Paris, Steph, and Rosemary still at the pub. She walked into her room and once she entered and flipped on the light, the first thing that came into view was the picture frame. The light shifted on the glass of the frame through the curtains when lightning flashed outside, promising another stormy night.

She threw back on her coat and ran out the door, jogging through the heavy sheets of rain to his own dorm. He opened the door cautiously, looking puzzled when he saw her standing in front of him, clothes sopping wet, only getting heavier as she stood there, water droplets falling off the tip of her nose, sticking to her eyelashes.

"You keep leaving me when I don't want you to," she told him, smiling.

"What?" he asked confused, clearly not following.

"After everything I've done…God, the things I've said to you, and you're still trying to convince me that it's all your fault."

He stepped out into the rain stupidly, why didn't they go inside, but she took another step back.

She laughed, "How can you even want to look at me after everything I've done? The guys, _Robert_, I was horrible to those girls you were with!"

He shrugged, hands shoved in his now-wet pant pockets. "I don't even care that you said all of that, Ror. You should know that. You were right, mostly, and I deserved all of that."

She sank back, taking steps back to the opposite walls from the door to his dorm suite, hand over mouth, shoulders shaking from laughing or crying, he couldn't tell.

He pulled her into his arms, her own arms sliding around his neck, her head buried in his chest, breath tickling his neck. He held her while she sobbed – he realized she was crying, not laughing – finally, for once, letting out everything.

And as always, he was her shoulder, her post, her everything.

Lightning flashed behind them, and he held her tighter, pulling her back inside with him, thankful that Finn and Colin were still at Rosemary's party.

"Come on, let's get you dry clothes," he said, releasing her, but her grip remained strong on his arm.

"No, please. Just, can you stay with me?" He nodded and she stood up on tiptoes to brush her lips to his. What was supposed to be an innocent kiss quickly progressed. His hand slid under her black tee, brushing the moist porcelain skin he had discovered. Her hands found the nape of his neck and she tightened her grasp on him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he shifted under the weight and backed them up to the closed door. Her arms lifted precariously from their position around his neck as his hands found the hem of her damp shirt and lifted it over her head. She unraveled her legs from his waist and dropped them to the ground.

He could taste the rain on her skin as he forged new paths along her neck and towards the newly exposed skin. She shivered, _shivered_, to his touch when his teeth grazed her collarbone, and he smirked against her.

She smacked him on the head, "You're laughing at me."

"No," he sobered instantly, burying his face in her neck, "never at you. And you just completely killed the moment."

She shrugged, "I'm less dressed anyways. What do you have to complain about?"

"The fact that you can be so calm after that. I mean, usually…"

"Don't finish that if you want me to stay."

"Stay," he whispered, his mouth attaching to her earlobe.

"Someone might come in," she managed to whisper during his attacks on her lips.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her back into his room, and moved her up against this new door, though she barely noticed the change of venue, and he reached behind her to lock the door.

She looked back at him and smiled. "You just assume I'm going to sleep with you."

"Do you want to leave?" he asked, smirking at her.

"Nope. How come you have more on than I do?" He shrugged and she played with the hem of his shirt before grinning and slipping it off over his head.

She moved in closer to him and trailed her hands over his chest before moving her lips to follow the previous movement of her hands.

She was everywhere, and slowly driving him crazy. He grabbed her hands and moved them over her head before leading her to the bed where she fell down with a plop. He climbed on top of her and she let out a sound, almost half a moan and a laugh, a noise he decided was the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

She smiled at him from her place beneath him, still in bra and jeans, while he stared at her. This angel, hair fanned out behind her, her fingers trailing down his arms, her cerulean eyes darkened in the room. Lightning flashed outside and her eyes shot to the window beside the bed.

"It's okay," he whispered, bending down to press his lips against hers. "You'll be okay."

She nodded, eyes wide, as he continued his works and they moved together in the rhythmic motion that only they can find together, and he showed her just how safe she was with him, hands and lips everywhere, wrapping himself in her, not leaving room for fear inside herself, and holding her until the storm died.

------------

She woke with the thunder, the storm starting up again and shifted her gaze to the clock beside his bed. 4:32. She sighed; she had only been asleep for an hour. She felt a weight around her waist shift, and turned to look at him. The arm wrapped tighter around her waist as he felt her movements.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm good," she said, her own thick and still hoarse from her crying.

"It's just thunder," he told her, kissing her shoulder.

"I know." She closed her eyes and he followed suit, content that she was safe in his arms, and even better, still there.


	17. Beginning of a New Thing

**A/N: thanks for the reviews all! whee. okay, so in regards to this, i dont know when or how im going to end it. i could end it soon somehow and do a sequel starting with the next summer (or if anyone has an idea, im open for suggestions). this may also be my last update before i leave for spain on thursday, and ill be gone for two weeks. it depends on if i can determine where i want this to go and how or if i should finish it up. (knowing i just said that, ill probably end up writing more chapters...but i dont know as of yet). so enjoy and review. :) **

**chapter seventeen**

One and a half hours later. Approximately six o'clock on a Saturday morning, and she was already awake, mind rolling, definitely not with the punches. She rolled off his chest, knowing her face would leave a red mark from where her sweaty forehead had been pressed for the past two hours.

She turned on her back and stared at the twirling ceiling fan. What would happen now, what were they, should she leave, does she need to leave, she didn't want to leave. She smiled softly to herself at the reminder of where she was and what had happened.

"You moved," the form beside her sleepily mumbled.

"Sorry." She rolled back over and pressed the side of her face on her chest, swirling her perfectly manicured finger in random shapes on his abdomen, tracing the muscles she found and around his belly button.

"Why are you so energized right now?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

"I don't know." She laughed, shaking both of their bodies.

"Crazy girl." They fell into a silence, and he knew her mind was racing and turning over every event that had just taken place.

"Where does this leave us?" she asked randomly. She tapped her finger on his chest where she heard his heartbeat, steady, strong and true.

"I want you."

"Well, from last night, I _knew_ that," she said sarcastically, raising her eyebrow.

"For myself," he continued without missing a beat. "Not for Robert or Dean or anyone."

"I know," she whispered. "You know, that night when you beat the crap out of Dean? You know that nothing happened, right?"

"Besides the fact he tried to feel you up? A girl he clearly wasn't going out with…"

She raised an eyebrow again, "Because you've never done that? We went a bit farther before actually going out. Are we even going out now?"

"Do you want to be?" She nodded giddily, a shy smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"Then I guess we are." She reached up to kiss him and pulled away before he could take it further.

She sat up, taking the sheet with her. "I need food," she told him with a smile. "Robert didn't want to get food before Rosemary's thing. And Finn salted all the food when we got there. Not even a Gilmore could eat that stuff. Wanna come eat with me?" she asked suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at him, at the end of her ramble.

He laughed at her antics and grabbed the undershirt that was lying haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. He found her shirt that he had dragged in with his foot from the entryway the previous night and tossed it to her.

They dressed in a comfortable silence, something new for the both of them, almost like it was a routine for them. She wandered into the bathroom to wash her face and fix her hair while he tried to find his dorm keys and wallet that had been deposited somewhere the night before on his nightstand, or so he had thought.

She came back out, looking like the angel she was, or he knew her to be, and she smiled shyly at him. To him, actually sticking around to wake up with her was better than he thought. He found his keys and wallet under the bed, and when he stood, he promptly wrapped an arm protectively around her waist to which she moved towards his touch.

"Oi! That's where you two went last night!" Finn called from his spot on the couch where he was playing PlayStation, a grumpy looking Paris sitting next to him.

"Paris, what are you doing here?"

"Professor Mathis gave me this shmuck in World Ethics to be my partner for the project that just happens to be worth twenty-five percent of our grade, and this is the only time we could meet. But seeing as we're getting so much done now," she added sarcastically, watching him blow up a car in Vice City.

"Oh, calm down, love. We'll be working in twenty minutes." He paused the game to look at her, a smirk in place, "Unless you'd rather do something else."

"I would rather shove my head in a food processor, _Finnegan_."

He shuddered at the use of his full name and resumed his game, and Paris looked back to Rory, "What are you doing here?"

"She just got laid, love," Finn told her, his eyes never leading the screen.

"Finn!" Rory grimaced and buried her head in Logan's chest, who was laughing. She looked up at him, "Make your friends stop talking about our sex lives."

At that moment, Steph and Colin walked in, hand in hand. "Well, now we have all the freaking lovesick puppies in here," Finn grumbled.

"What's wrong with him?" Colin asked.

"Rosemary turned you down again, Finn?" Stephanie questioned like she was comforting a child.

"That has nothing to do with it!"

"Hey, I know you're all upset about your lack of sex life, but can we start working on the project? Terrance said stress isn't good for a healthy lifestyle."

"Who's Terrance?" Logan whispered to Rory.

"Her life coach. Don't bring it up; she's very touchy about it."

"I heard that, Gilmore."

"If only Terrance could have been at that C-SPAN mess," Rory said, shaking her head sympathetically.

"I told you not to bring that up!"

"It was a life-changing event! She should have been there," Steph chimed in.

"I'm leaving. Finn, we're both failing World Ethics." She left the dorm suite, slamming the door behind her.

"I feel sort of bad," Rory said.

"That's what she gets for making me get up at 6:30 on a Saturday, no less, to work on this," Finn exclaimed.

"How did you get up this early?" Logan asked, interlocking his fingers with Rory's, with his arm still around her waist. Nobody could see the sort of grip they had on each other, as if they were each other's support.

"I didn't sleep last night, mate, and let me tell you, it's working great. I'm just going to go crash now." He shut off the console and walked down the short hallway to his room. "Don't wake me up before four, or someone will get hurt."

Rory laughed and look towards Colin and Steph. They were arguing about something in the small kitchenette the guys' dorm had, which had clearly had a pretty penny spent on it.

"You ready?" Logan asked her.

"Yep." She checked to make sure she had her purse and cell and then she smiled brightly at him.

"I think this is going to work," he said, laughing.

"I hope so," she told him, and he kissed her softly before pulling back. "Is it okay if they come with us?" She nodded in her approval and he looked to the couple who were now laughing about the same something they had been arguing about less than a minute before.

"You guys want breakfast?" Rory called out.

"We're in," Steph replied.

Rory and Logan left first, followed closely by Steph and Colin.

Yes, this was going to work out just fine.


End file.
